


Toxic Earth

by EruditePrincess1993



Series: When the Ground Meets the Sky [1]
Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternative Perspective, Anya Lives, Biromantic Demisexual Female Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Costia lives, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Espionage, F/M, Family Member Death, Father-Daughter Relationship, Finn Collins Being an Asshole, Fix-It of Sorts, Grounder Culture - Freeform, Grounder Politics, Implied Anya/Tristan, Interracial Relationship, It takes place two full centuries after the nuclear apocalypse instead of the canon ninety-seven, Mentioned Costia/Lexa, Minor Bellamy Blake/Raven Reyes, Minor Octavia Blake/Lincoln, POV Female Character, POV First Person, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Nuclear War, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Slow Build, Starts at Pilot and will end at 2x16, Wells Jaha Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-06-08 20:09:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 104,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6871552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EruditePrincess1993/pseuds/EruditePrincess1993
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Costia isn’t captured and killed by the Ice Nation. She and Lexa end their romantic relationship considering that Lexa’s position as Commander would make it dangerous. Five years after Ice Nation joins the Coalition, the Dropship carrying the delinquents lands on Trigeda territory and Costia is tasked to infiltrate their camp to see whether they can be trusted. However, it becomes difficult when she becomes acquainted with the son of the Sky Peoples’ chancellor.</p><p>With chapter 15 marking the conclusion of Season One, Costia and her clan brace themselves for the threat of war after the Ark’s descent to Earth. When tragedy strikes the Woods Clan, including Costia’s family a few days later, war seems imminent until Wells and Clarke forge a truce and alliance with Commander Lexa in order to get both their people out of Mount Weather. Costia struggles with her partially unresolved feelings for Lexa while her feelings for Wells grow.  Wells comes to the conclusion that Post-Nuclear Earth is a planet where one’s moral compasses are challenged and that there are times that doing what is right isn’t always a option.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> A rewrite of an earlier story. Basically because I thought of something better since Season 3 started. This is a AU where Costia lives and bear in mind that it’s Costia-centric/Grounder-Centric.  
> Also, I will fix the logical failices when it comes to the Grounders. I can’t see them coming to that point in culture and language in just under ninety-seven years. Two centuries yes, but not ninety-seven. Things like that take time.  
> While this will be based on the TV series and use several elements from the series (like Mount Weather and Grounders being separate groups, A.L.I.E. and the City of Light, etc.) I will also incorporate elements from the trilogy.  
> Conversations in Trigedasleng are indicated in italics.  
> Also on FF.net

            Today the sun shines brightly over _Trigeda_ , where the trees are lush during the spring and summer; where the ground is blanketed in brown, orange, and yellow leaves during the fall; and where the evergreen trees and ground are blanketed in snow during the winter. Today the sky is a azure blue and the breeze is cool and crisp.

            It’s a beauty that only we can enjoy. We don’t have to worry about roasting in this environment unlike our adversaries, the Mountain Men, who have been held up in Mount Weather for two centuries. They don’t come out but in the few times they do, they come out in gas masks and biohazard gear looking for their next victim.

            It’s not long before the first leaf will descend to the ground and when the first few leaves fall and harvest will start.

            “ _You think we might come across that two-headed deer, Costia_?” my brother Nigel asks me once were halfway down the hunting path from Brighton Village.

            “ _Maybe_ ,” I say. Animals with two heads were a rarity. It is not often one would find animals that have been mutated due to the toxins still present in the air after two centuries. The deer with two-heads was the rarest among them. So much so that hunters from the village would tell stories about encountering it.

            “ _If we find one, are you going to shoot it with your arrow_?” he asks.

            “ _If it doesn’t run away_ ,” I assure him with a smile.

            “ _Why did you decide to hunt today_?” Nigel asks me, scratching his head. “I heard you begging father to be the one whose turn is to hunt this time.”

            I heave a sigh. I have been so good, not letting my emotions dictate my mood whenever she came into the village; which happened rarely as her affairs were usually done in Polis or TonDC. If she wasn’t selected to train for the Conclave, we still could have been together.

            Lexa and I were both born in the same village. Both of us were born with the Nightblood, though Lexa was selected to train for the Conclave while I was one of those not selected but expected to get married when I turn twenty years old (I reach my twentieth year in the fifth day on the third month next year) to pass down the Nightblood. During our visits to Polis, I and the other children would hang out with the Nightbloods when they weren’t training with their mentors or taking lessons from either Titus, Keeper of the Flame, or the late Commander Huron. Lexa and I hit it off and slowly our friendship became something more. The relationship continued even after she won the final round of the Conclave, much to Titus’s disapproval since love was considered a weakness to the Commander’s power.

            Lexa thought she could make it work. Being the Commander and having me as her lover. One afternoon five years ago changed that, when two _Azgeda_ warriors crossed the boundary between _Trigeda_ and _Azgeda_ and I ran into them while trying to catch a wildcat.

            I thought for sure that they were going to capture me and do what else and that I was outnumbered when something spooked them; Reapers they were.

            My assailants ran at the first sight of them and I took the advantage to escape, not turning back and luckily they never pursued me.

            Everyone knows that the Ice Nation torture their prisoners before beheading them while alive. It happened to my sister, Salem. She was captured by the Ice Nation during battle and a day later they sent her head as a message, like they always did then.

            Upon hearing of this encounter, Lexa wanted to execute my attackers but Titus insisted that such an action would impair her efforts to invite _Azgeda_ into the Coalition and that having those warriors executed was more of a personal thing then impartial.

            “It would be safer for the both of you if you ended the relationship,” Titus said to her. “The Ice Queen will only exploit it to her advantage.”

            So she took his advice and ended the relationship, though she said in a shaking voice, “I hope we could remain friends, Costia.”

            I wish that she severed our emotional ties as well as our romantic ties, as being around her only reminds me of what we could have had. But I accepted the friendship offer as I wanted her in my life in some form if we’re no longer lovers.

            Now, my emotional strife is to the point where I begged my father, the Trikru General, that I hunt today so I could avoid seeing her. Take a day off from patrolling the village fence. While the General is one rank below the Commander, that person does not have the restrictions that the Commander has. A General is allowed to have a family. A Commander is prohibited from such, hence the phrase, “To be a Commander is to be alone.”

            He understood and assigned someone else to my shift. Lexa will be gone by nightfall and I’ll be able to think straight. The meeting between her and father won’t take long.

            “ _Costia, look!_ ” Nigel whispers, pointing ahead of me. I look ahead and just beyond the trees, I see a two-headed deer grazing in the clearing. Aha. Wait until I come back to the village with that marvelous creature.

            “ _Good eyes, brother_ ,” I say before removing an arrow from my quiver. I squint my right eye as I pull the arrow and bow string back; the feathered end touching my lips.

            As I lock in on the target, I curve my lips into a smile and I feel my pulse in my chest and fingers. Someone is going to have a lucky catch today. I can see it now, everyone’s awed glances as they see me and Nigel tow in the deer through the village gates.

            I am just about to free the arrow when I hear a twig snap a few yards away. The deer looks at the source before running away. Blast! I had it too.

            “ _Well, that went well_ ,” says Nigel, massaging his temples with his fingers.

            I open my mouth to speak when I hear voices. Loud as if they don’t think anyone is watching or hearing them.

            Quickly, we hide in the nearest thicket of bushes, hiding ourselves from view completely.

            “What was that?” asks a girl.

            “Probably just an animal,” answers a second girl. “It can’t be other people because only the hundred of us are here.”

            What?

            “We saw a deer back there,” says a boy, his voice containing innocent curiosity. “If we saw animal life, it could very well mean that there are other survivors.”

            “Whoever survived the bombs most likely died off a few years after,” answers the second girl. “Either from lack of supplies or the radiation.”

            “Besides, it was a sudden event,” says another boy. “The odds of finding another group of survivors are slim to none.”

            We thought the same thing. That we, aside from the Mountain Men, were the only ones that were. We thought that for over a century until a space pod descended from the sky fifteen years ago. We knew that there were people in space when the bombs fell but we thought they all (with the outstanding exception of _Bekka Pramheda_ ) died off after a few years.

            Imagine our surprise.

            I peek from the bushes, just far enough to get a glimpse. There are five of them. Two girls and three boys. They look to be around fifteen to eighteen years of age. Their clothes look somewhat worn but in better condition then what Nigel and I are wearing. They are all wearing identical metal bracelets that look too new to be salvaged from.

            Definitely Sky People.

            The blonde girl looks at the boy with dark brown, shoulder-length hair, says something inaudible before the group disappears from view. A youthful boy with goggles over his head curiously looks at the direction of our hiding place before catching up with his friends.

            “ _Should we follow them?_ ” Nigel whispers.

            I look at him with my mouth open.

            “ _Are you out of your mind?_ ” I demand. “ _From the sound of it, they have just arrived here and we don’t know what they are capable of_.”

            “ _It’s not hard to see what they are up to_ ,” he says.

            I sigh. He’s right but there are risks involved.

            “ _Alright, but only for ten minutes_ ,” I say. We leave our hiding place and quietly, we approach the group of trees that they disappeared into and it’s not long before I see them.

            They are looking around their surroundings but how they are acting, it’s not like they are just looking around just to take a view of the trees and wildlife. They are looking for something. I wonder what it is they are looking for.

            Nigel notices too.

            “ _Should we help them?_ ” he asks. “ _Whatever they are looking for must be important_.”

            I think about it. They look pretty harmless, like they are just out here looking for something but they could be like us: soldiers trained since two and knowing various ways to kill people. It’s not a risk one should take.

            “ _No, we must not take the risk_ ,” I whisper.

            We continue following them until I hear the sound of the river. Hopefully, they don’t make the mistake of dipping into the river and attract the giant winter snake. Hopefully at least three of them make the smart choice of not taking a dip in there.

            At this point we can’t continue any longer. Unless we risk discovery. We both turn back to the village, making sure that we take the invisible path.

 

* * *

 

            Brighton Village is fortified by a stone wall that took ten men and ten years to build, according to the village log. At the sight of Nigel and me, both the guards unlock the wooden gate and pull it open.

            As we enter, I smell the aroma of soup, meat, smoke, and burning wood, indicating lunch time. Everything appears normal though people seem tense and are packed together in groups and whispering. It’s like they are discussing something that they saw not too long ago.

            “Costia! Nigel!” calls out Bristol as she runs from the eating area. She sees that we are not carrying anything and asks, “Why are you empty handed? Usually when Costia hunts, she carries a large haul.”

            “We were distracted,” I answer as I make my way to the food stall occupied by Dickens. “We saw some strangers who startled the deer I was after and decided to investigate until they reached the river.”

            Bristol frowns. “Strangers? Half of us saw a ship fall from the sky about an hour ago.”

            I look to the house where my father, my siblings, and I are residents. With Gustus and Wight, Lexa’s bodyguards, accompanying William and Lorie at the doors. “Do they know?”

            “The ship fell from the sky right when they were entering the house,” says Bristol. “So, they know.”

            I approach the stand and ask Dickens, “What is on the menu today?”

            “Hazelnut soup,” he answers, lading a portion into a metal bowl and sticking a spoon into the contents. “Careful not to burn yourself. It’s a new batch that just got done simmering.”

            “Thanks,” I say, approaching the canteen with my bowl. Hazelnut soup is a fall specialty of the Woods Clan; complete with hazelnuts, turkey giblets, rice, and black beans. You never want to have more than your share and it goes for anything we eat.

            Chatter fills the room and from a distance I could hear Cole playing his fife from a distance.

            “Yeah, I saw it,” I hear Beaufort say.

            “I hate to imagine how many people that was in that thing,” I hear Gustav say.

            “There are about a hundred of them,” I answer, as I sit my bowl down and sit next to him. “According to one of them that Nigel and I encountered from a distance.”

            “Wait, you and your brother saw some from a distance?” Gustav asks as I take a bite of my soup.

            I swallow. “Yes, five out of the purported hundred,” I answer. “We followed them for some time before coming back. They are probably looking for something.”

            “If I was there, I would have been happy to help,” says Beaufort, taking out his dagger before sticking it into the table. People around his radius chuckle.

            “The Commander might want us to stand down,” I point out. “Attacking people unprovoked is against the rules anyway.”

            Though there might be some, particularly the staunch and blood thirsty, that would be happy to break the rules with the new arrivals here. Especially those who have the mentality of “Get them first before they get us.”

            That mentality is associated with _Azgeda_ , as they are known for slaughtering newcomers who enter their territory.

            “Besides, there might be nothing about them that would warrant hostility,” says Nigel. “They could be just looking for something.”

            “The tactic for young warriors is to appear harmless so that it would be easy to attack the enemy,” I point out. “They could be employing that tactic for all we know.”

            “There you are,” I hear Anya say. “Good thing I didn’t have to send Caliban to retrieve you.”

            I look to see Anya, her lips pressed in a thin line. It’s obvious that she is worried about this new development concerning the Sky People. “The Commander and your father request your presence, Costia.”

            I close my eyes and sigh. The last thing I want is to be in the presence of my former lover. I’m not afraid of her but I’m afraid my mind will go haywire around her. Luckily, father will be in the room and most likely Titus, as I wouldn’t be too distracted by her presence.

            I put down my spoon and follow her out of the village canteen towards the front doors of my home. We ascend the steps, nodding to the four guards stationed at the doors.

            After Anya closes the doors, I tell her, “I saw five Sky People while out hunting with Nigel. There are ninety-five more of them, as I overheard.”

            “Before the meeting, we saw a ship descending from the sky,” Anya replies, her lips still pressed tightly. “It is too large to be the space pod that came down fifteen years ago. Too large then the space pod that carried _Bekka Pramheda_ one hundred and ninety-eight years ago.”

            I follow her down the corridor to the door leading into the main parlor.

            “… _We don’t know their capabilities_ , _Commander_ ,” I hear Titus say inside the room.

            “ _Yes, we do not know, which is why I am going to make the order to suspend action until we can determine whether they are a threat or not_ ,” I hear Lexa say. “ _I will post exterior intel around the landing sight to monitor them from afar_.”

            Anya opens the door and I walk into to see Lexa, Titus, and father sitting around a table in big chairs, all looking pensive and serious. I wish eye contact wasn’t a requirement because just seeing those emerald eyes of hers makes it feel like I can’t breathe.

            “ _Good day, Costia_ ,” acknowledges Titus.

            “ _Salutations, Titus_ ,” I say, trying not to scowl at him. He’s the reason why Lexa decided to call the relationship off.

            Lexa doesn’t say anything at first. She glances at me for a few seconds before swallowing and saying, “ _I have a seat, Costia_.”

            I sit in the empty chair next to father with Anya sitting next to me.

            I put my hands on my lap and asked, “ _So, you summoned me, Commander_.”

            “ _Before our meeting commenced, a ship descended from the sky_ ,” begins Lexa. “ _Anya’s scouts determine that it’s four hours away from here_.”

            “ _Not far from here, then_ ,” says Titus. “ _You still should give Tristan the order to assemble his troops to prepare for battle_.”

            “ _Silence, Titus_ ,” Lexa commands. She says, “ _Since their capabilities are unknown as of now, this is making matters difficult. It’s been five years since the ceasefire between Ice Nation and the Coalition, and I don’t want to lose warriors due to unnecessary bloodshed. So, I decided to let them make the first move_.”

            “ _It’s risky business, Commander_ ,” Titus says, his voice full of skepticism.

            “ _Ice Nation made the first move, according to the legacy journals_ ,” father says. “ _I’m not assembling my troops until we have indication these invaders pose a threat. There is the possibility that they might not have experience with weapons_.”

            “ _The exterior intel will give us developments about whether those people will be able to coexist with us peacefully or if they are a threat_ ,” says Lexa before looking at me. “ _But exterior intel wouldn’t be enough. We need at least one person at the inside of their camp. And this is where Costia comes in_.”

            It’s like someone took my brain and shifted its contents before placing it back into my head. She wants me to infiltrate their camp?

“ _Forgive me, Commander, but I don’t want you to risk putting Costia where the invaders are located_ ,” says Titus. “ _She’s a nightblood and we can’t risk it_.”

            Lexa ignores him. “ _You will report their activities to Tristan once a week. It’s the first time they have landed on this planet, so naturally, they would assume they would need native help_.”

            “ _They think they are the only humans here_ ,” I point out.

            “ _Then you will be the first human they will see_ ,” Lexa says. “ _Let them think that for today until tomorrow_.”

            Until tomorrow? If that is the case it would be a miracle if they don’t encounter any today or tonight.

            “ _As for the Nightblood issue, Costia will take care of herself_ ,” says father, looking at me. “ _She would be able to escape danger if it proves risky for her to handle it_.”

            I look at Lexa and search her face and eyes for any reaction to her request. Her expression is detached and expectant, though I could see it in her eyes that she knew she was making a sacrifice; as if she wanted me to refuse but also wanted me to accept the mission yet she couldn’t decide which thought she could trust.

            I sigh, side glancing the expectant looks on Anya and father before saying, “ _I accept your assignment, Commander_.”

            “ _It’s settled_.” She stands on her feet. “ _Gather supplies and leave with your horse and wagon at just before first light_.” She looks at father. “ _General, notify the residents of this message: as of now, they are to stand down and not attack until it can be proven that the new arrivals are a threat. Anyone who disobeys will be subjected to a kill order_.”

            “ _What if some people don’t get the message right away and act before hearing about the message?_ ” Anya asks.

            Lexa hesitates before saying, “ _Then they will be a message for anyone thinking of disobeying_.”  



	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I got to say about the finale is…wow. At least I don’t have to worry about changing things in my story.
> 
> To clarify, this story will end at s2’s finale. It will be split into two parts, this story taking place from s1 to s2 and the sequel taking place from s3 to s4. The sequel being published around s4’s premiere, whenever that will be.

It’s been three hours since father delivered Lexa’s message to the village denizens. Everything seems normal like it would for a week day, though one could still taste the tension in the air. The Village Council, composed of four men and four women, are convening with my father regarding the policy Lexa just instated a few hours ago.

            While we’re all part of the Coalition and answer to the Commander, each clan has a different form of government. While Ice Nation decided on monarchy, the Woods Clan is run by a series of Village Councils, the councilmembers elected by the residents of a village. People related to ambassadors or high ranking military officers are not allowed to run, as a council ran by people related to civilians and average warriors would understand peoples’ plights better.

Instead of hunting, I sit on a log and read a chapter of H.G. Wells’s _War of the Worlds_. Not far from where I’m sitting, some of the village children are reenacting famous battles from the past, using sticks in the place of swords. From the looks of it, Tris has “slaughtered” the other players; who are lying in dramatic poses.

They do strive for theatrics at a young age.

I have reached the part where the Martian Tripods make their descent on a city named London when I hear the dinner bell ring. The children and the Seconds drop their pretend weapons and run to the nearest food stalls while I mark my place before making my way to my house for dinner.

The higher ranking members of the clan and their families usually dine together in one of the homes in their resident village. Since my father is the General of our clan, they convene at our house for dinner.

            I could smell the aroma of pork, bread, and stewed vegetables as I enter the house. Usually soft conversation fills the air prior to dinner. However, the conversation sounds tense and anxious.

            “ _I don’t understand why the Commander wouldn’t let the troops make a preemptive strike_ ,” I hear Octavian, the Chief Councilman, say. “ _We should attack them before they attack us_.”

            “ _Based on the reports from Anya’s scouts, they are more like the Mountain Men then us_ ,” says Magda.

            “ _Only they don’t roast alive_ ,” Anya says as I enter the dining room. “ _I have my doubts about the newcomers but I understand the Commander’s decision_.”

            Entering the dining room, the only people that haven’t joined the table yet are my siblings and a couple of children belonging to one of the Councilmembers. I sit in my custom seat between father’s seat and Nigel’s seat, the latter which is currently empty.

            “Costia, tell the Council about the assignment the Commander gave you,” father says as Nigel and Bristol enter the dining room.

            I look at them and say, “Commander Lexa gave me the mission to infiltrate the newcomers’ camp.”

            “And you decided to let your daughter, a nightblood, take the risk?” asks Venia, her tone austre.

            “Wait, you’re leaving for the newcomers’ camp?” asks Nigel, his eyes big.

            “Nigel, Bristol, take your seats,” Anya says sternly.

            “Seriously, when is she going?” Bristol asks as she sits down.

            “And why not me?” Nigel asks, like it’s a betrayal that I was going instead of him.

            “Before first light,” says father, looking over at Nigel, “and don’t forget that incident with an Ice Nation warrior six years ago that forced me to remove you from Anya’s unit.”

            I remember that incident. Nigel made the mistake of letting an Ice Nation warrior into our territory into thinking that the individual was an insurgent when the very tactic was to enter the territory by trickery. He would have been dead if it weren’t for Anya. Father had to remove him from Anya’s squad and transferred him to his unit of rangers.

            “That was six years ago, father,” Nigel protested.

            “And I still don’t trust you around people stranger to this territory because you tend to be trusting,” father scolds.

            I glare at him, remember his willingness to help the Sky People as I help myself to some pork.

            “What if they discover that she’s a spy?” Bristol says with worry. “She’s a _Natblida_. She’s supposed to pass it down the family tree.”

            “Don’t act as if I don’t have any agency, Bristol,” I say before depositing a full cob of corn next to the pork. “I will ensure they don’t find out about me being a spy. From the looks of it the Sky People are a bunch of idiots.”

            The entire conversation about at the dinner table was about the Sky People and what should be done. Three members of the Council thought that a preemptive strike was in order; that a precautionary attack should take place.

            “And risk being executed for treason?” Anya argues. “I understand where you are coming from, I really do. I don’t trust them either but the Commander doesn’t want to start a war that will become meaningless down the road.

            When dessert rolls around and everyone is treated to a glass of wine and a serving of strawberry tart, I decide to excuse myself, as I was tired of Nigel’s sulking and the adults arguing over the Commander’s “no attack” policy.

            If _Bekka Pramheda_ didn’t create that artificial intelligence two hundred and one years ago, life would be so much easier.

 

* * *

 

            _My heart is pounding hard in my chest as I run from my pursuers. The horn of the Tripod rattles my eardrums and I could hear the sound of its spindly legs from behind me. My legs are tired from running but I have to, or they will capture me. I move away the branches of the trees to give me better access but when I reach the clearing, I stop in my tracks._

_I feel the blood dry from the surface of my body as I see my mother standing still. Looking the same as she did that cold January day she was snatched from my life. Her hazelnut hair blew on her face against the wind and the sea shell pendant still lies on her chest._

_Her lips curl into a ghostly smile as she gazes at me._

_“Mama,” I say, running towards her and wrapping my arms around her. She returns the embrace but she feels ice cold._

_She separates from me and unclasps her necklace before putting it on my palm and wrapping my fingers around it._

_“Costia, I will always love you,” she says, her grey-green eyes glassy with tears. “Look after your siblings. Tell your father how much he meant to me.”_

_Just as she finished, the tentacles of the Tripod reached down and plucked her from my ground._

_I feel tension build up inside me before I release it, screaming at the top of my lungs._

            I sit right up in bed; gasping for breath with cold sweat running down my body. I examine my surroundings, to see that I am here in my own room; in my own bed. That I’m not pursued by Martian Tripods. That I didn’t see them take my mother.

            After softly inhaling and exhaling before lying back down on my bed, trying to get back to sleep.

            That part about my mother giving me her pendant, and saying those exact words before being ripped from me actually happened. Only she wasn’t taken by Martian Tripods. She was taken by Reapers.

            We were outside that day, retrieving firewood when they spotted us. My mother picked me up and made a run for it. Unfortunately she knew that one of us was going to be captured and taken to Mount Weather and she didn’t want it to be me, especially due to my nightblood.

            She hid me in a tree, gave me her necklace, said _Costia, I will always love you. Look after your siblings. Tell your father how much he meant to me_ and kissed me on the forehead before they took her.

            It seemed like twenty minutes later before Indra found me. She knew what happened, because if women were with their children while being pursued by Reapers, they hide them in the trees. She wrapped me in her furs and broke the news to father when she returned to the village.

            I was only ten. Father took possession of mother’s necklace and I never saw it again for nine years. I suspect that he wants to keep a piece of her near him and I don’t blame him.

            I dream about her being taken from me, in various forms; one more frightening then the next. Its way more frightening when I see it unfold how it actually happened. That is something I can never erase from the facets of my mind.

            The tears slip from my eyes as I think about it. This is one of those times where I wish she was still here. Out of my siblings, I guess I was hit the most because I saw her get taken from me.

 

* * *

 

            It’s before first light, which I know what that means. I change out of my nightgown into the same thing I wore yesterday, though I put a few articles of clothing; as anything could happen.

            I fasten my quiver of arrows to my body before I fit my copies of _War of the Worlds_ and J.M. Barrie’s _Peter Pan_ into my provisions bag before strapping it across my body. I made sure to include my plants and berries book to share with the newcomers as the biology has been different for two hundred years thanks to the radiation. If they want to survive, they have to get to know the environment around them.

            When I make sure I have everything in order, father comes into my room holding a wooden box. “ _I decided that before you go, that I should give you something,” he says, handing me the box_. “I thought that your mother would want you to have it.”

            I open the lid of the wooden box and there it is, the sea shell pendant that mother gave to me before she was taken from me. The turquoise shell still shines with its pearl lodged inside it.

            I bring my hair around my shoulder and try the rope supporting the seashell before turning it so that it lay on my chest.

            “ _I didn’t give it to you because I wanted a piece of your mother near me_ ,” he says. “ _Also, I wanted to wait until you turned of age, as your mother would_.”

            I go over to him and hug him. He returns the embrace, patting me on the back. “ _It’s okay, Costia. It’s okay_.”

            “ _I know_ ,” I say firmly.

            We separate and he looks at me like a general would look at his subjects. “ _I hope you have success on arriving to their camp_.”

            “ _I will, father_ ,” I assure him.

            When I leave the room, I see no sign of Bristol or Nigel. They probably won’t notice my absence until when they wake up or they will probably watch me from afar.

 

* * *

 

            Two people are loading a wagon as I leave the house with Anya watching them. Tris is feeding Athena, my palomino horse, when someone closes the top of entrance to the back of the wagon.

            Anya looks at me and hands me a folder paper with the faded words _Map of Virginia_ on it.

            “ _The wagon contains animal hide, bowls, silverware, cups, two spare wheels, a tool kit, hunting bag, honey, and exported sea salt_ ,” says Anya as I unfold the map of the territory. “This will match with the story of going into Norbridge Trading Post/Farm. Allow them to use what you have in there.”

            “ _Yes, Anya_ ,” I say, remembering the cover story that they gave me. There are clan boundary lines between the Woods Clan and the Blue Cliff clan. In our territory, there is a black X with the words Sky People’s camp and it’s approximately twenty miles away from the danger zone which is Mount Weather and the radius around it. From the look of it, the camp is approximately four hours from Brighton Village, six hours from Norbridge Trading Post/Farm, and three hours from Hanover Village by walking. It might take me less then that by horse.

            “ _Remember that they are to think that you are a civilian_ ,” says Anya. “ _It will be less difficult for you to do your task and safer that way_.”

            “ _Because a civilian is less likely to get tortured for information then I soldier_ ,” I say, repeating what my father told me.

            “Everything is packed and ready,” I hear.

            Anya offers her hand and I grasp the area before her shoulder before she pulls me into a hug. “ _I will see you soon_ ,” she says without a shred of doubt.

            I part away from her, nod, and walk away before walking towards the wagon and opening the flap to deposit the bag in the wagon before walking to the bench at the front. As I sit down after setting my provisions bag beside me, I look at muslin curtains covering the view from my sister’s room; only they are parted slightly as if someone has opened them a bit.

            I knew they would watch me leave. I look at the window before mouthing, “ _Goodbye_.”

            I shake the reins, beckoning Athena to move. She tugs the wagon forward and two guards hold the gates open to let us out. The early morning air feels a little nippy though not bad. When the month changes, the nights will get cold and the days nippy.

            As she rides me towards our destination through the woods, I look at the map that Anya gave me. Four hours away from the village and six hours from the trading post/farm. I am uncomfortable about the fact that they are so close to the village but my worries could be unfounded.

Brighton Village is hard to find if one doesn’t memorize the paths to it that don’t lead to tripwire traps. Besides, the trading post/farm is obscure from sight as well.

The sun is hovering a few feet from the horizon when I feel one of the wheels smash over a rock.

Brilliant.

I stop the wagon and hop off the bench and walk to the left side of the wagon to assess the damage. The bottom half of the left back wheel is completely shattered. I have spares with me but it might take ten to twenty minutes to replace it.

“ _Stupid piece of wood_!” I exclaim, hitting the side of the wagon with my booted toe. I grumble as I turn to the back of the wagon and unlatch the flap keeping the contents in place. I step inside to retrieve one of the wheels and the toolkit.

I am about to pick them up when I hear someone ask, “Is there anyone else here?”

It sounds like a boy in his late teens. His voice carries curiosity yet full of awe; like he didn’t expect to see anyone else here except for the people he arrived with yesterday.

I leave the wagon, take out a arrow, place it along the bow string and come around the corner; pointing the arrow at the speaker. He’s a dark skinned boy wearing blue jeans, a white shirt, and a blue jacket.

What’s interesting is that he doesn’t seem worried about the arrow pointed at him. It’s like he’s more surprised at the mere sight of me. Like he didn’t expect to see anyone else on this planet.

“Are you armed?” I ask him.

“No,” he says.

With that, I put down the bow and store the arrow back in the quiver. No need to intimidate him. “Decided to investigate?” I ask him.

“Well…it’s just that…we were told the earth was uninhabited,” he says. “That everyone died off.”

I snort. “That is what we thought about you people up in space,” I say. “Of course, we would both come to that conclusion.”

It’s like he doesn’t know what to say until he offers his hand. “I’m Wells. Wells Jaha.”

So, they still keep the tradition of surnames. I shake his hand and say, “Costia. Costia of the Woods Clan.”

“Okay…” he says, still not knowing how to take in the situation. “What was the problem?”

“Well, I was on my way to the trading post/farm to trade animal fur for meat and eggs and my wagon hit a rock, shattering the bottom half of the wheel,” I say, gesturing to the wagon.

“Do you have a spare?” he asks me.

“Two and a toolkit,” I say. “I don’t have something to steady it with.”

“What about that rock over there,” he says, pointing behind me. Next to a tree is a rock big enough for steadying it.

“It could work,” I say with a nod. We both pick up the rock and I push it under the rock as we both use our hands to lift the wagon. “The supplies needed are in the back.”

Wells turns to the back of the wagon and I unlatch the flap before going into the wagon to retrieve one of the spare wheels and the toolkit.

“Did you see the dropship descend from the sky yesterday?” he asks.

“No, but I have seen five people walking through the woods,” I answer as I remove the broken wheel from the wagon. “Thanks to them the deer I was trying to hunt ran off. A valuable catch it would have been, since a deer with two heads is a rare find.”

I position the spare to the socket and take out the nails.

“That was my former friend and four others,” he says as I begin hammering the nail into the wood. “Is there any chance that you know how to get to Mount Weather?”

The edge of the nail cuts across my hand and I pull my hand back. A stabbing pain courses through my hand as I try to control the bleeding with a clean rag in the toolkit.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice full of concern.

“I’m fine,” I say. “There is bag on the bench in front of the wagon. Get it for me.”

It doesn’t take long for him to retrieve my provisions bag. I open it with one hand before taking out the roll of bandages and a pouch of seaweed. I place the plant on a part of the roll, tear that section apart, and wrap them around the injured part of my hand.

I look up at Wells to see a horrified and baffled expression on his face and he’s looking at my bandaged hand. Looking at it, I see that my fingers are smeared with my blood. He wouldn’t have seen black blood before, since it only exists on the Earth and only in this part of the continent.

“Yeah, my blood is the color of night,” I say, standing up. “You might as well get used to it.”

“Hey, Chancellor!” I hear a male voice call out. His voice is deep, indicating that the speaker is a few years older than Wells and the tone is rather mocking.

Two boys are approaching. One has black curly hair, tan skin, and is wearing a blue shirt and black pants. The second boy is lighter skinned with short brown hair and the jacket over his shirt is distinctive with red spikes on one shoulder. The former is around my age while the latter is closer to Wells’s age.

“There you are,” says the first boy looking at Wells. “We don’t want you attacked by radioactive –”

He and his companion stop in mid step, their eyes glued to me. The blood drains on their faces. The first boy is shaking his head while the second boy tilts his own and narrowing his eyes.

“Impossible,” says the first boy, stepping towards me. “We were told that the Earth is uninhabited.”

“Baffles me too,” says the second boy. “It could be just the radiation messing with our brains but it’s not. If there is a girl here, there might as well be others.”

The first boy looks at me and asks, “What’s your name?”

“Costia,” I say.

“Bellamy Blake,” he introduces, offering his hand. I lift my uninjured hand and shake his own. “What was the problem that caused Wells to investigate?”

“I was on my way to the trading post/farm to trade animal fur for meat and eggs and my wagon hit a rock, shattering the bottom half of the wheel,” I repeat. “I was trying to replace the wheel when I hurt myself with a nail.”

“Are you okay?” Bellamy asks me.

“I put a antibiotic seaweed on the bandage so, I should be,” I answer.

The second boy seems to have regained his composure. “There is a reason they call DIY projects of that nature for boys only. I’m surprised you survived out here with no access with feminine care products.”

I feel the blood reach my face. What did he just say?

“Murphy, finish what she started and fix the wagon,” Bellamy says, pointing to the wheel that has yet to be attached.

Murphy looks at Bellamy. “You want me to…we arrived here yesterday and just came across the first human aside from those on the dropship.”

“If she’s the first human we saw, we shouldn’t have to worry about the others,” says Bellamy. “Like I said.”

Wow. He just met me and assumed that others here are not hostile. Hopefully he doesn’t make a mistake, because he’ll be in for a surprise. There is a reason the other clans don’t want to go to war with us but we’re not as ruthless and warped as _Azgeda_. We’re second to _Azgeda_ when it comes to brutality.

Murphy glares at him before walking towards the wagon. Muttering to himself.

“Is there anything in that bag that’s edible?” asks Wells.

I pick up my bag and hand it to him. “There are five pouches of dried fruit and a canister of nuts. Help yourselves.”

Wells takes out one pouch before Bellamy takes the bag from him and retrieves the canister of nuts.

“Take it easy on the nuts,” I tell him. “They didn’t send any food down with you?”

Wells is the one who answers. “Actually, we were supposed to land at Mount Weather.” He pops a dried apple slice into his mouth. “It is stocked with supplies for three hundred people that could last them for two years.”

“I’m sorry but Mount Weather is a danger zone in this territory,” I answer. I pull out my map and unfold the part showcasing the area. “This area in the shaded red circle is off limits. Pass the red line and you might as well be digging your own grave.”

“Wait, so you’re saying that there are radioactive monsters around?” asks Murphy. “Like Godzillas roaming the place?”

These kids most likely spent their time reading comics that don’t adhere to the realities of nuclear radiation. Radiation can cause deformities and abnormalities in plants. Besides, what is inside Mount Weather is much worse then what this kid is hinting at. Worse as humans being monsters by mentality isn’t something found in fantasy and science fiction.

So, I say: “The less you know what is inside the Mount Weather compound, the better.”

We hear running footfalls, frantic breathing, and twigs snapping from a distance. I turn to see the source and four of the five people that I encountered from a distance yesterday come into view. The missing boy is the one I remember with the goggles over his head.

Hopefully it’s not what I think it is.

“Good! They got Jasper and we need to –” the blonde girl stops shouting and she freezes in place as her eyes lock on mine.

Judging by the blood draining from her face, she and her group had a unpleasant encounter with my clan. And it’s obvious that someone might get killed for disobeying the “no attack” policy.

Bellamy locks his eyes on the black haired girl in the group. The way she’s holding herself, it’s indicative that she’s injured.

“Octavia!” he yells, coming to her. “What happened?”

“I’m okay, Bell,” she says. I recognize that tone, as I have seen girls at the village trying to ward off their overprotective brothers. Yep, they’re definitely siblings.

“She got bitten by a monster when she took a dip in the lake,” says the boy with the shoulder-length hair.

I roll my eyes. What a bunch of idiots.

“If you are entering unfamiliar territory that has been changed by nuclear radiation for two centuries, one might want to proceed with caution,” I say, throwing my hands in the air. “Even if the earth was uninhabited, you still should proceed with caution.”

“She’s got a point,” says Wells.

“Her people have speared Jasper in the chest not too long ago,” says the blonde girl, sending a dagger at my direction. “And who knows what they are doing to him.”

“WHAT?!” I shout, feeling the blood reaching my face. “That was not supposed to happen. My Commander ordered us to stand down for the time being.”

She is about to say something to me when she looks at Wells’s hand. It looks fine, so I don’t understand the concern.

“You’re wristband,” she says.

Murphy gets up and his lips form in a smirk. “Twenty-four and counting.”

Analyzing them, I do notice that Wells, Bellamy, and Murphy are not wearing the wristbands while the other four are.

“Those wristbands inform the Ark that we’re alive,” says the blonde girl in indignation. “Take them off and they will think we’re dying! That the planet is not survivable.”

I roll my eyes. The planet is not survivable. Has the solar radiation affected their brains?

“If they come down, things will be the same as they have been, Princess,” Bellamy tells her mockingly. “You and you’re friend will have it good since you’re among the privileged. And where will that leave the others?”

“Um, I know you want to have a heated discussion about social hierarchies but it’s not the best time if your friend is hurt and most likely needs your aid,” I say, raising my eyebrow and resting my hands on my hips.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

                “Why did they send you all down here?” I ask as I follow them to their camp. “Space castle becoming too overpopulated?”

            The blonde girl – known as Clarke – scoffs. “We wish. It’s much worse than that.”

            Much worse. I hate to imagine what that would be.

            Stepping into their camp, the first word to describe it: chaos. It looks like a scene from a page of _Lord of the Flies_ , with either people fighting or bullying the other. I detect a few couples making out too. They are awfully loud too.

            “Would you describe this as chaos?” Wells asks me.

            “Yeah,” I say.

            “Nothing is wrong with a little chaos,” Bellamy says.

            I roll my eyes. It’s obvious that they aren’t given rules and rules instill discipline. Discipline is a important factor in survival as well as organization. These kids are going to die in a matter of days if they don’t shape up.

            Clarke and her entourage head back to their ship when I see something glinting by the smoking firewood. I approach that area and see more of those wristbands that most of them are wearing. I feel my eyes widen as I pick one up and open it.

            After the nuclear war, we established a barter system in place of currency for access of goods. It helps others out and prevents greed. To us, metal is synonymous with gold. I can get more goods if I trade these babies in.

            I take out a drawstring bag from my provisions bag and put the wristbands in. Most people are still minding their own business though I sense some staring at me.

            Lexa was right. I am literally the first human they saw on the ground since they fell from the sky.

            I am oblivious to my surroundings when I hear what sounds like people are egging on a fight. I have just put the last wristband in the bag when I see Wells and Murphy engage in a spar with knives. Judging by the smirk on Murphy’s face, I guess he was the one that instigated it.

            Bellamy is focused on tending to Octavia’s wound. He has no intention to stop the fight.

            I wade through the crowd of Sky People hoping to stop it when I feel someone take a handful of the fur trimming the hood of my leather trench coat. I reply by elbowing the person in the nose.

            This time, everyone has their eyes on me, as if I’m some spectacle for merely existing. These kids could benefit from this medieval era lifestyle. Wells and Murphy have stopped fighting.

            “Everyone, this is Costia,” Bellamy introduces, pausing for a moment. “She’s a native of this planet.”

            “Native? The planet was said to be uninhabited,” remarks a dark skinned boy with a beanie on his head.

            “If it comforts you, my people thought that you all died off in space a few years after the bombs fell on the Earth,” I say, with a smirk. “Interesting how things go.”

            When Clarke leaves the ship with her group, it’s not that the fact there was a fight that took place that caught her attention but it’s like she knows the contents of my drawstring bag. For she runs towards me and grabs a hold of it. “We need these. They transmit vital signs to the Ark.”

            “They will be good to barter for food and medicine,” I say, yanking the bag from her grip. “Speaking of which, I’m going to hunt for food and find something to use as an antibiotic poultice in case your friend is alive.”

            I turn to go but Clarke grabs my wrist. “This is your territory. Since your people did this to him, you should help us look for him.”

            I glare at her before ripping my hand from her grip. “I know the territory, yes, but I was not there when it happened so I don’t know where he is. Only you know where to go.”

            I turn around and walk to the path from where I entered the camp. Luckily Athena is here as well as the wagon. I approach the wagon and unlock the back to set aside the wristbands and to get my hunting bag.

            Since I am going alone, I am going to hunt something light since one person can’t carry a deer by themselves. These kids are probably hungry and had nothing to eat for twenty four hours.

            Even if they didn’t give them anything, they could have given them a survival book.

 

* * *

 

            I set my hunting bag, containing three wild turkeys by the river as I get the red seaweed from the river. We use this to treat serious injuries as they have antibiotic properties. These came in handy during the Ice Nation-Coalition conflict.

            I take a good quantity and stuff it in my hunting bag before going on my back to their camp.

            Everything is the same as I left it with the Sky People still restless but not as rowdy as a few hours ago. Bellamy, Wells, Murphy, Clarke, and one of the three boys from yesterday’s entourage – known as Finn, I heard Clarke call him – are absent. Most likely looking for their friend. It would be a miracle if they even find him alive.

I go by the ship, where I sit down and take out one of the turkeys and begin plucking it.

            It doesn’t take long for me to pluck the turkeys, behead them, and gut them. It didn’t take me long to set up a roasting turning stick, where they are now, sitting above the fire.

            “How long is it going to take?” I’m asked as I turn the stick.

            “Not long,” I say, turning the stick. “Not long until it’s golden brown and you can have some lunch.”

            “Good, because I’m starving,” says a girl who looks to be twelve.

            “I can’t believe they didn’t send you guys down here without any food,” I say, shaking my head. “Or any basic earth skills training.”

            “Actually, we were given a crash-course Earth Skills class for two weeks,” says the beanie wearing Sky Boy – or Miller as I heard someone call him. “They didn’t even tell us why we were taking it.”

            What? Who teaches Earth Skills for two weeks without telling them why? Besides that would explain why most of these kids were not disciplined, because if they weren’t told the reason, they most likely wouldn’t care about what they were being taught.

            “They didn’t tell you anything?” I ask.

            They shake their heads.

            “Your people are stupid,” I mutter, shaking my head.

            “Stupid?” I’m asked.

            “Yeah, because your people didn’t send you anything or even told you,” I say.

            “I guess they didn’t send us anything because they didn’t have enough,” says a blonde boy. “Everything is rationed up there.”

            Rationed. Of course being up in space would cause a limitation of resources. “They still could have sent you a book.”

            In about a hour, the turkeys are golden brown and it’s aroma attracts most of the camp, who are waiting to get their share of it. I see Octavia with another boy coming out through the trees, laughing and giggling.

            “Don’t get more of your share,” I say as I put slabs of turkey on sticks before distributing them. “We don’t want the others to get hungry.”

            They didn’t protest. They just went with their sticks with the turkey and went off, wolfing their share down. It’s a blessing I got three of these wild turkeys since there are a hundred of these Sky People.

            Octavia takes two, since one of the hundred is inside working on communication. That person is probably hungry as well.

            I set the untouched sticks of turkey slabs on the clean surface of the nearest rock before fetching my horse. Since the wheel is unfinished, I’m going to repair it anyway.

 

* * *

 

            Before nightfall, it’s obvious that the Sky People have the energy drained out of their system, since they have quieted down. I am positive they would restart their chaotic behavior tomorrow morning once they sleep.

            Some of the Sky People are pitching tents as I move the supplies from my wagon to the inside of their ship. The twelve year old girl, Charlotte, is watching me but keeps her distance like she doesn’t want to get too close. I think it’s the quiver of arrows that make her nervous.

            The sun is close to the horizon when I hear voices coming near. The camp denizens come near the source with curiosity and I see Octavia perking up; her eyes searching for a certain person.

            Clarke and Finn are the first ones to enter. Supporting who I could only remember as the boy they call Jasper. They take him into their ship and I follow them in.

            “Now, lay him down somewhere,” I say, grabbing the seaweed. “I’ll give him the poultice.”

            They were able to put him through the hole leading to the upper level. When I got up there, they were crowding around him, and the person showing the most concern was a boy I vaguely remember to be called Monty. They were most likely best friends.

            But I can’t treat him if they are too close.

            “Get out of the way,” I say. “Back away so that I can do my work.”

            They pull away and I kneel down, ripping open his shirt. My eyes widen at his wound. Someone has placed remains of the plant blocking his wound but just by removing it, it is still bound to get infected.

            “I have never known anyone surviving from a spear in the chest,” I say, taking a wad of the red seaweed. “The point must have been blunt.”

            “He was strung up to a tree,” says Clarke, glaring at me, like I was responsible.

            “Excuse me, your highness, but I wasn’t the one who speared him in the chest and strung him to a tree,” I spit out before applying it to his wound.

            Clarke rolls her eyes and turns to leave when Bellamy comes up through the hatch. “Where is your bag with the wristbands?”

            “By my toolkit,” I answer, pressing down on the poultice.

            “I see it,” I hear Murphy say from down below.

            “I’m going to give you more of those wristbands for bartering,” says Bellamy. “I know you are going to want to go to that trading post/farm.”

            “Thanks,” I say, before taking out the roll of bandages from my provisions bag to keep the poultice in place. “That should help him. I will be right back with something to help him sleep.”

            I climb the ladder after Bellamy and approach the box to get a jar of honey. When someone is sick or injured, we give them honey mixed with sleeping herbs. I take a jar of honey and a cup before climbing up the ladder.

            Jasper is conscious but since he’s injured the adrenaline must have burned him out. He moans something but the only word I can decipher is “thirsty.”

            “Don’t worry,” I assure him. “I have something for you to drink right here.”

            I get on my knees and take out my medicinal case and unlock it open. I unscrew the lid of the jar and pour the honey in the cup. Then I pick up the sleeping herb and break it up before sprinkling it in the honey.

            “Now, drink up,” I say, bringing it to his lips. He swallows the stuff without hesitation.

            “You just carry around herbs whenever you go?” Finn asks as I snap the case shut.

            “Only those with experience to use them carry these around,” I say firmly as I stuff it back in my bag. “My mother’s family ran a apothecary in Polis, which is our capitol. She taught me and my siblings everything about how to use medicinal plants until…”

            No, I can’t tell strangers.

            “Until what…?” Clarke asks, like she knows something bad must have happened. As if she too has lost a parent.

            I glare at her. My family history isn’t her concern. “Keep watch on him,” I say as I gather the cup and the empty jar. “He will be knocked out for the night but it’s best to keep watch anyway.”

            I climb down and put away the jar and cup before going outside.

            Murphy and another boy are in the process of putting a kill through a roasting turning stick, a pelt just yards away. I pick up the pelt. Jaguar fur. I could actually get bread for its pelt.

            I see that Wells is sitting against the wheels of my wagon, gazing thoughtfully at the fire. After putting the pelt in the back of the wagon, I join him.

            “So, how did you manage that kill?” I ask.

            “Shot it with one bullet,” he says. “Did you get the medicine?”

            “Yes,” I say. “Everything should be okay.”

            Wells turns to look at me. “You think you could help us?”

            “Help?” I ask, even though I have done that and intended to for my cover story.

            “Yes,” he says. “You know the area, the plants, and the wildlife. As you said, the radiation has changed the planet for two hundred years. Some of the things we learned might not be compatible down here.”

            “Yes, things have changed,” I say.

            “Our farmers and doctors are up there and they can’t help us down here,” he says.

            Hmmm, Wells is very enthusiastic about surviving in this toxic earth. And this was the part I was waiting for.

            However, I pretend to hesitate, to think it over since it would be suspicious if I accepted right away. I dig into my bag and pull out my plants and berries book. “Here,” I say, handing him the book. “It has all you need to know about the biology of the territory. What is and what is not safe to eat.”


	4. Chapter Four

            “So, you are a bunch of convicts?” I ask as I sit around a fire with Finn, Clarke, Wells, and Octavia; as we eat the jaguar meat.

            “Technically, yeah,” says Finn. “All of us have been arrested for something, no matter the severity.”

            He drops the ball. “No matter the severity? What are you talking about?”

            “To help conserve resources, the punishment to every crime, including petty crimes, is execution by being floated into space,” answers Clarke. “If one is under eighteen, they are put on lockup until they get reviewed.”

            “Forget petty crimes,” says Octavia, scoffing. “My mother was floated when they realized that she had me, since they can only allow one child, and I was arrested for being born.”

            The stick slips from my fingers and I am oblivious to my dinner falling into the flames.

            “Here’s your bag,” says Bellamy, handing it to me. “You should be able to get a surplus of food in return.”

            “They literally executed your mother for having a second child?” I ask.

            Bellamy hesitates before saying, “Just be glad you weren’t born on the Ark or your parents would have been floated into space by his father.” Bellamy sends a glare at Wells’s way.

            “First, I wouldn’t blame him for his father enforcing rules,” I say. “And second, what kind of barbaric society executes people for petty crimes and having a second child?”

            “Your people speared Jasper in the chest, strung him up for live bait, and you have the nerve to call us barbaric?” Clarke demands.

            “At least we don’t execute people just for small crimes and having more than one child,” I point out.

            “Stop,” says Wells, like he’s trying to keep the waters calm. “Let’s just eat.”

            Clarke just glares before turning to her dinner.

            “As you know, tents were pitched,” says Bellamy. “You could sleep in one of them.”

            “I think I should be going back home after I eat,” I say, trying reverse psychology. “I don’t want my father to send a search party.”

            “I don’t think he would mind if you would stay here overnight,” says Bellamy. “It’s getting dark and I wouldn’t want my own sister to venture out at night.”

            Well, what did you know? It actually worked.

“Alright, but I’m sleeping in your ship,” I say.

Bellamy nods before walking away.

“Are you actually going to barter these for supplies?” Wells asks me, gesturing to the bag of wristbands.

“Yes,” I say. “I could actually get enough food for hundred people with those. Old Jack at the trading post/farm, has enough food to feed an army of five hundred.”

“You are not trading those,” Clarke says. “We need them.”

“I doubt they will work after removal,” says Wells. “I am confident mine got fried after it was pried off.”

“They need to know the ground is survivable,” snaps Clarke.

“Most of us don’t know how to hunt yet, especially those who never paid attention in Earth Skills when we learned archery,” Wells points out, his calm tone which was in stark contrast to Clarke’s abrasiveness. “We’re going to have to rely on Costia’s bartering until we do. Not all the wristbands have been removed so maybe they will come down.”

“I can’t believe you are putting faith into a Grounder, but considering that you turned in my father, I shouldn’t be surprised.” Clarke leaves the group, with Finn following her.

“Why are those things important for her?” I ask

“If the wristbands go off, they think you are dead,” says Wells. “They transmit all our vital signs to the Ark. Since Bellamy is convincing people to remove their wristbands, they most likely think that we are dying from radiation.”

“Radiation poisoning doesn’t work like that,” I point out. “Fifty years after the Nuclear Apocalypse, the first clan members saw a group of people exit Mount Weather. Most of that group who didn’t make it back inside died, their bodies roasting from the inside out. It was like they were placed in a microwave, to quote the clan founder. If you were dying from radiation poisoning, you all would have suffered the effects at the same time and you would be dead since yesterday.”

“Science wasn’t my brother’s best subject,” says Octavia.

“Since it looks like your people think you are dying slowly from radiation poisoning, then your people must be a bunch of science illiterate idiots,” I point out.

 

           

* * *

 

            My dream cycle that night is chaotic. One moment I’m hunting a mountain lion in a corn field to trudging through the snow. I feel like I’m being engulfed in snow when I feel a kick in the stomach.

            My eyes tear up and I roll to the side but not before I look to see what it was. Murphy is standing by with a smirk on his face.

            “What was that for?” I demand, sitting up.

            “Just seeing if you were real or not, that’s all,” he says as I stand up.

            Yeah right. I bet he got off on kicking me awake. In retaliation, I bring up my knee to the area between his legs and knee him. Hard.

            He bends down and places his hands on his crotch; his face twisted with pain. One way to take away a man’s pride is to knee him in the balls, as Anya would say.

            “That was uncalled for, bitch,” I hear Murphy say.

            “Then you shouldn’t have kicked me in the stomach,” I say as Clarke descends from the ladder.

            “How is he?” I ask.

            “Loopy but okay,” she says.

            “Good,” I say. “Had we waited, he’d be in serious pain.”

            “Why do you care so much?” Clarke asks me, her blue eyes cold. “Your people knocked him down with a spear and strung him up for live bait.”

            “If it weren’t for me, your majesty, he would be dying a slow painful death,” I point out, before barging out of their ship.

            At the doorway, I could see Mount Weather from where I’m standing. We’re not exactly in the danger zone but twenty miles is still dangerously close.

            I have descended the ramp of the ship when I hear Bellamy say, “Trina and Pascal have been gone for a day now.”

            “They could have just gotten lost,” says one person.

            “Or got taken by Grounders,” says another.

            I walk towards where Bellamy is standing and say, “Possibly taken by Reapers.”

            They all look at me as if I’m speaking pig Latin. “Reapers,” Bellamy repeats. “What are they?”

            “Men who have been taken to the Mountain and turned into cannibalistic savages,” I say. “When they see a human while hungry, they eat the organs from your body.

            “Please, I don’t want to bring dinner back up,” says a Sky Person before walking away.

            “Interesting,” says Bellamy. “I will believe it when I see it.”

            He walks away and I walk to the wagon to retrieve what is left of the jaguar meat from last night; which I preserved in sea salt when everyone had their stomachs full. I take a piece and head to the fire to warm it up.

            I put the meat through a stick and rest it on the fire to warm it up when Finn sits next to me.

            “Eating what is left of the meat before it spoils?” he asks.

            “I used sea salt to preserve it so it doesn’t spoil,” I point out, turning the stick.

            “I think I remember hearing something about that in Earth Skills class up in the Ark, when Pike was teaching us about food preservation,” says Finn. “I am surprised I listened since I wasn’t one of his best students.”

            “Earth Skills is important but what’s interesting is that the biology and wildlife of the planet has changed for two hundred years after the bombs,” I say. “You wouldn’t know that.”

            The meat feels hot so I take a bite. Not only does the sea salt preserve the meat but it also gives it flavor.

            “I like your necklace,” he says, pointing to the sea shell pendant. “The blue brings out the green in your eyes.”

            I frown. Everything about his tone and smile indicates flirtatiousness. I hate it when people who have no prior emotional attachment to me flirt with me, especially boys.

           “You remind me of a boy I once knew.”

            It was during the Conclave after Huron’s assassination. There was this boy who was the son of the butcher in Polis. Since I was the daughter of Trigeda’s general, he made romantic advances to me despite the fact that he had a girlfriend and that I was romantically involved with Lexa.

            After the Conclave, I expressed my irritation to Lexa.

            “He keeps chasing me and his girlfriend keeps sending me daggers,” I told her      

“Then he should know you are spoken for,” Lexa said.

The next morning, it was no coincidence when milk and feathers were dumped on him. If someone feels like another is chasing their lover, the offender suffers humiliation. It’s part of Woods Clan culture.

Ironically, his name was also Finn coming to think of it.

“I do?” asks Sky Boy Finn, furrowing his eyebrow.

“Yes, he had the same name as you,” I say. “He made romantic advances despite the fact that he himself had a girlfriend and I myself had a girlfriend as well, only my girlfriend is in a position in authority.”

“Oh, so that means you like girls?” Finn asks, afraid that he offended me.

“I love girls _and_ boys,” I clarify. “However, emotional attachment is a requirement if you want the key. And you my friend, I have no emotional attachment to you.”

I walk away from him. What a prick. He’s the type of guy who would make romantic advances to another girl while having a girlfriend far away. I don’t know him, but he’s that type of guy.

“Costia,” I hear Clarke address.

“I am no mood for more of how I am somehow responsible just because one of my people disobeyed my Commander’s orders, Princess,” I say.

“That’s not why I am talking to you,” she says. “You are a native of this territory which means you would know where the berry bushes are. Wells said you would know.”

The way she says his name is like it’s something poisonous. She did say that he turned in her father.

“I would know, yes,” I say. “I know which ones are poisonous or not. It’s all in the berry and plants book.”

“Good,” says Clarke. “I want you to come with us since you know.”

I raise my eyebrow. It could be a trap for all I know but it couldn’t be if Wells is tagging along. Then again from what observed about these newcomers’ is that they don’t seem skilled with being soldiers and they don’t have any weapons. They are just convicts after all.

But that could be the strategy, to appear unskilled and unarmed. They could still be trained warriors regardless if they are criminals or not.

The convict part could be an elaborate cover story but if one of them was arrested just for existing, the society they live in must be very cruel.

“Very well,” I say. “Just follow my lead.”

I stand at the edge of the camp to wait for them and I grit my teeth when I see that Clarke has tagged Finn along. Hopefully he glues himself to her and not me but if he has a girlfriend up in that space castle, I hope she knees him down there if she ever comes down here.

“Watch out for snares and tripwire,” I say. “You don’t want to risk getting impaled or hung upside down by accident.”

“So, blueberries are poisonous now?” Wells asks me, holding my book.

“Yes, some fruit that was poisonous is no longer poisonous and vice versa,” I say. “Radiation does interesting stuff to the living organisms.”

As I lift up a branch to get it out of the way, Wells says, “According to your map, it looks like we’re in Virginia.”

“Once Virginia,” I correct. “This is Woods Clan territory, which makes up part of the former states of West Virginia and Virginia. We border Ice Nation and the Blue Cliff clan.”

“I guess they aren’t as welcoming,” I hear Clarke say.

I chuckle. “You should be glad you landed on Woods Clan territory. Had you landed in Ice Nation, most of you would have died. They do not wait. They will kill newcomers the first time they see them enter their territory.”

“Sounds like your people,” Clarke scoffs.

“That was an act that has most likely been rectified,” I assure her when I find a bush of raspberries. “There is a bush up ahead.”

The bush ahead projects hyperactive growth. It spawns new berries per day after one has been plucked. Just another reminder of the nuclear war.

“Raspberries,” Clarke says, opening a backpack before pulling them out by the leaf. “We need a lot of these.”

We pluck the bush clean and move on from there.

The next stop is the strawberry bush, which is picked over but we were still able to get enough. Finn picked the last berry from the bush and pointed it to Clarke’s mouth. She opened it and allowed him to put it in her mouth, laughing in the process.

Wells turns away while I try not to bring my breakfast back up. That interaction was nauseating and awkward.

We were on our way to the wild berry bush when we hear the sound of the Fog Horn. No, no, no, no!

I take out my own horn that was hanging from my belt and gave a blow before yelling, “Run!”

I lead them away from the Acid Fog, the blood pumping in my ears as I run. Luckily we’re not far from a bunker.

“What is that?!” Clarke shouts as I open the bunker door.

“No time for questions!” I shout as I watch the encroaching yellow-green fog that can kill anything in its path. “Get into the bunker now!”

They descend down the ladder and I descend underground after Finn. Closing the airtight door and locking it just before it goes over us. I open the porthole window before stepping down the ladder and approach an oil candle.

“What the hell was that thing?” Finn demands as I lighten the first oil candle.

“Acid Fog,” I answer before moving to the next oil candle. “It kills almost any living thing in its path. If you don’t die afterwards, people will have no choice but to end your misery.”

“That is one evidence of a radioactive world,” Clarke mutters.

The thing is, it didn’t exist until after the time the door to Mount Weather opened and people roasted alive. Too bad they all didn’t die or they wouldn’t be going out of their way in trying to annihilate my clan for almost two centuries. Though Ice Nation also suffers.

“Is there any indication how long we will be down here?” Wells asks as I make it to the bunk bed.

“Twenty hours,” I answer, sitting on the lower bunk and taking off my boots. “In the meantime, we should pass the time.”

I take out my battered copy of _War of the Worlds_ before lounging on the bunk.

“I used to read that book from time to time back on the Ark,” Wells says, drawing a chair close to the bunk. “Clarke and I would pretend that we were being invaded.”

I chuckle. “Back when I was young, during the rounds of Acid Fog, mother would tell me and my siblings to pretend that the Martians were invading to keep us calm. That they be gone in twenty hours.”

The vision blurs in my eyes and I choke back a sniffle.

“What happened?” Wells asks me, his voice considerate.

I only knew him a day but I know that he’s not high and mighty like his companion that is in the same room as us. Him, I can tell.

“It was the dead of winter nine years ago,” I start. “I was with my mother to gather firewood for our house. Then they came. The Reapers.”

I could still see it. Their shouts as they ran towards us. The lack of growls indicating that they were there to take her to the Mountain. Her last words to me before they dragged her off.”

“She hid me in the trees to keep me safe.” I choke back sobs. “I was found ten minutes later by a family friend from another village. I still think about that day even though I try not too.”

I am a idiot for breaking down in front of strangers, who could use this information against me but I gave in anyway. It was bound to happen with me mentioning my mother.

“I lost my mother too,” says Wells in a faraway voice. “Died when I was seven to influenza. The medicine rations weren’t enough to keep her alive.”

I hear Clarke mutter to herself before saying, “Stop trying to make yourself look good, Wells.”

“Clarke, please try to remember –

“I remember that you turned in my father when I told you to keep it a secret, you cretin!” Clarke snaps, cutting him off. “You promised you wouldn’t tell your father about my father wanting to go public with the information and you turned around and did just that!”

Her hands are balled into fists. Her jaw is clenched and her body looks like it’s shaking. As for Wells, he says nothing. It’s as if he’s taking it for some reason.

“Do you guys want to play Monopoly?” Finn asks, as if he wants to alleviate the tension.

Nobody seems interested. Clarke keeps sending ice cold daggers at Wells’s way. If looks could actually kill, he’d be six feet under by now.

“Costia, have you played Monopoly before?” Finn asks me. As if I’m too clueless to know.

“Yes, I have, and just because my society has gone back to medieval times, that doesn’t mean we have no knowledge of the things that existed before the Nuclear Apocalypse,” I spit out.

 

* * *

 

That night, my mind is totally blank. Once in a while, I would see Clarke and Finn cuddling together on the trundle bed nearby. I didn’t see Wells anywhere. He was probably by the alcove watching the fog from the porthole to make sure it had dissipated.

I had once again drifted asleep and I don’t know how much time has passed when I heard Wells say, “The fog has cleared.”

I sit up and stretch my limbs before slipping on my boots. From my peripheral vision, I see Clarke and Finn stretching before getting out of the bed.

After I shrug on my trench coat, I pick up my things but let Clarke ago up first before ascending the ladder myself.

“I don’t understand why you just took that from her,” I ask as Wells closes the bunker door after Finn got out. “You need to stop being a doormat. Assert yourself.”

“I am just doing what a friend does best,” he says with a shrug as we walk back to camp.

“She’s treating you like you’re her doormat,” I point out. “Considering that she obviously hates your guts, I wouldn’t be around her, Wells. It’s unhealthy and toxic.”

“I made a choice,” he says. “If she hates me for the rest of my life, I made the right choice, and that's all you need to know.”

He walks away and I just stare at him. From the sound of it, he’s covering for someone. Taking the blame for turning her father in when it was someone else.

Also, what information was Clarke’s father going to spill?

 

* * *

 

Before we arrived at the camp, we found out that one of the Sky People (specifically the one I saw Octavia with two days before) was caught in the Acid Fog; his skin nothing more but gruesome burns. Apparently he didn’t make it into the cave where Bellamy and Charlotte were hiding. When Bellamy couldn’t mercifully end his life, Clarke did; humming “All The Pretty Horses” as she stuck a knife into his neck.

That boy was the only casualty among them.

Also, I am relieved that some of them thought to take my horse into that ship of theirs (or the Dropship as they call it).

While Clarke is busy tending Jasper, I sort the berries that we picked into different sides of the box that carried my supplies. There are more of the raspberries then the strawberries though.

“That is too much red,” I hear Murphy say as he comes up behind me before taking a strawberry. “I always loved strawberries but you could have picked blueberries too.”

“Blueberries are poisonous,” I point out. “Have been since the bombs fell. Now, do you have anything better to do then being a creep?”

Murphy just shrugs. “Interesting. Also, you should know it was my idea to bring your horse into the Dropship when the Acid Fog came.”

“Why would you care?” I demand.

“Since the bombs put technology in kaput, I guess you are back to the days where horses were considered a man’s livelihood,” he says with a smirk before walking away.

I shake my head. That douche canoe most likely had that idea to save my horse because he cared. Most likely he wanted to look good after I kneed him in the balls yesterday in retaliation for kicking me in the stomach.

 

* * *

 

“What was that stuff you gave me?” Jasper asks me when I hand Clarke the roll of bandages while we are changing the poultice and bandages on his chest.

“It’s honey with sleeping herbs,” I answer. “We give it to people when they are sick or injured so they can sleep soundly.”

“A knock-out herb,” he replies. “I would like some more of that.”

“Only if you have a seriously injury or sick to the point where you can’t sleep,” I point out.

I am going to have to keep my provisions bag on me all the time because I fear he might find the case and use the herbs for recreation purposes. And I hope that he doesn’t since one of them is poisonous.

Apparently Finn took the board games from the bunker, because I see people in groups playing a particular one. Hopefully they focus their energy on them instead of destructive behavior.

By nightfall, I find Wells sitting at the top of the hill, watching the sun go down.

“You’re on watch?” I ask him.

He looks up and smiles, asking, “Want to join me?”

I nod.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I ask as I sit next to him, looking at the purple sky.

“You never see things like this when you’re living in space,” he tells me. “The view from my window was always the earth and the stars.”

“The stars are beautiful from the ground,” I say. “Then again that’s how I know it.”

“I always wanted to see the stars from the ground and they are beautiful down here,” he concurs.

I hear small footsteps and I see that Charlotte has approached us.

“Hi,” she says shyly.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Wells asks her

“I never can,” she says.

“Oh,” I say, smiling at her. “Sometimes I can’t sleep at night too. You can sit with us.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, taking a step back.

“Yes, I don’t bite,” I say with a smile.

She hesitates before she sits down between us. Between one of her fingers, I thought I could see a makeshift knife.

I peek into my provisions bag to pull out my copy of _Peter Pan_ while I hear Charlotte speak of an undescribed nightmare and how she thinks she could end them. A horrible gut feeling propels me to turn my attention to her and I see her about to raise the knife to his neck.

I grab her wrists and wrestle her to the ground. Covering her mouth with my arm to muffle her screams as I take the knife from her fingers.

“What is wrong with you?” I demand, pocketing the knife. “What were you thinking, huh? What could you possibly be thinking? Why would you want to kill him?”

From a distance we hear a thump. Not from an animal no, but it sounds like a corpse fell to the ground after being held in a grip by someone else.

“What’s that?” he asks as I stand up.

“I don’t know but we should investigate,” I say, taking out my arrow. “Go back to the Dropship, Charlotte.”

Quietly I walk, careful that the grass doesn’t crunch under my feet. Unfortunately, I don’t think Charlotte listened to a word I said, since I’m hearing those same small footsteps following us.

“This is a bad idea,” Wells whispers from behind after a minute. “We should go back.”

The first thing I see is an arm but I regret looking past that tree. Someone – one of the Sky People obviously by his clothes – is lying on his back, his chest and stomach opened; with his heart missing and parts of intestines remaining.

“Graham?” Wells asks, his eyes wide as he stares in shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graham was the name of a delinquent in The 100 Trilogy by Kass Morgan. Considering that Bellamy built the wall in response to Wells’s death in television canon, someone had to die but it won’t be Wells in this case.
> 
> Also, the bunker that they hide in is the same one as the one referred to as “The Art Supply Store.”


	5. Chapter Five

I hear Charlotte let out a bloodcurdling scream, while Wells could only continue to stare in utter disbelief and I back away; the insides of my stomach curdling.

            “We have to tell Bellamy,” Wells says finally before taking off.

            I look at the lifeless eyes of the Sky Boy before taking off and following Wells. The blood pounding in my ears is a painful combination of the feeling that my stomach is about to explode.

Turns out, Bellamy heard Charlotte’s scream and was already heading towards the area. “What happened?” Bellamy demands.

I drop down to my knees and I vomit by nearby tree, barely controlling the impulse to keep it back.

“Graham got attacked,” pants Wells, “and it doesn’t look like one of the natives did it.”

I hear footsteps headed to the direction of the attack when I regain my composure and stand up before proceeding to follow them.

            “We should stand back,” I hear Finn say as I push between the crowd but keeping my distance from the site of the Reaper attack. From where I’m standing, I could see Bellamy’s eyes bulging out of his sockets as Clarke’s face turns white as a sheet while she covers her nose and shakes her head.

            “It looks as if something has eaten the organs from his body,” says Clarke just after she regains her composure. “I never have seen anything like it.”

            Bellamy approaches the crowd and stops when he gets to me. “You said that Reapers do these things?” he asks.

            “Only when ravenous,” I answer.

 

* * *

 

            “Nothing is out there,” says Murphy as he returns to Bellamy’s tent. “Mbege and I looked around the perimeter.”

            “Good,” says Bellamy. “Tomorrow morning we should start building a fence. To make sure it doesn’t happen again. Spread the word.”

            Murphy nods before leaving the tent and Bellamy turns to look at Charlotte and I. “You two are welcome to sleep in my tent tonight.”

            “Bellamy, before we heard his body drop, we had a incident with Charlotte,” I say, looking at her.

            “What happened?” he asks, his eyes flashing with immediate concern.

            I remove the makeshift knife from my pocket and hand it to him. “She tried killing Wells with this. When she thought I wasn’t looking.”

            Bellamy turns his gaze to a tear-stricken Charlotte. As if the idea of her killing Wells was unfathomable.

            “You told me to slay my demons,” she says weakly.

            Bellamy bends down so he could be at eye level with her. “When I told you to slay your demons, that’s not what I meant,” he says. “I understand the effect your parents execution had on you but killing Wells is not going to help anything. He wasn’t the one that floated your parents.”

            His tone in that last sentence indicates that he holds someone else responsible. Probably Wells’s father.

            “Okay?” Bellamy says as she nods.

            He goes over to get makeshift pillows and blankets. This is going to be a long night.

           

* * *

 

            _My feet sink into the snow as I run through the trees; the blood pounding in my ears and the sweat collecting on my skin._

_“Mother?” I ask, looking through the trees to find any sign of her. “Mother?!”_

_“Over here, Costia,” I hear her say from a distance._

_“Mother!” I exclaim in relief as I run to the source but I freeze when I get there. Lying on the snow is the boy they call Graham. Lying in that same exact position like lasted night. A wolf eating from the opening in his stomach._

            I bolt right up, gasping for breath as I grip the blanket. Looking at my surroundings, I see that I’m in a tent at the Sky People’s camp. Just where I was before going to sleep.

            “Nightmare?” I hear Bellamy ask from across the tent as I lay back down. At the end of the tent, Charlotte is fast asleep

            “Yes,” I say with a sigh. “It’s usually the same thing but every time under different circumstances. I don’t get them every night but it’s like the energy is taken from me. This time, that boy that got killed by Reapers was featured in it.”

            “What usually happens?” I am asked.

            “Nine years ago, my mother and I were out collecting firewood when we spotted them,” I say, trying to be calm. “Mother hid me in the trees and gave me her pendant before she was taken. I was ten when that happened and every other night, I have nightmares about it where I keep losing her but under different circumstances.”

            I hear weight shifting inside the tent and I see that he’s sitting by me. The blackness of the tent casting a shadow on his face. “I lost my mother last year. Executed for having another child.”

            “Octavia told me,” I acknowledge.

            “When I think back to the image of my mother flying from the air lock, sometimes I feel like I was responsible,” he says in a faraway voice.

            “What makes you think you were responsible?” I ask. “You didn’t kill her.”

            “Last year, I snuck Octavia out of our compartment to attend a Unity Day masquerade party,” he says. “I don’t know the holidays that your people have, but Unity Day is a anniversary of the twelve stations joining together to form the Ark.”

            We have something similar to celebrate the clans coming together, only Ice Nation joined the festivities five years ago when Lexa invited them into the Coalition. What really garners significance is Ascension Day which honors _Bekka Pramheda_ , who fell from the sky two years after the bombs fell.

            “I thought everything would be okay,” he says. “I watched her from a distance to make sure she was safe, but it all went downhill when the party was interrupted by a solar flare alert. Everyone had to show their identification. And….”

            He doesn’t need to continue since I know what comes next.

            “They executed your mother and locked up your sister,” I say.

            “I failed my mother,” he says, voice heavy. “Octavia is my sister and my responsibility. Mother told me that and I ruined everything with my recklessness.”

            One could tell that he hates himself. That he is filled with self-loathing for what happened to his mother but I am not the right person to be given this information.

            He literally confided in a Mole. Yet, that doesn’t prevent me from feeling sympathy towards him.

 

* * *

 

I empty the bag, the wristbands falling on the jaguar pelt that is lying on the desk in Jack’s post trading office.

            His eyes widen at the sight of them as he picks one up. “ _I don’t know what to say, Costia. This is manufactured from fresh metal_. _That it could buy out half the inventory_.”

            I tap my fingers, knowing that he might continue and he did.

            “ _Why_?” he asks

            “ _The Commander gave me a assignment_ ,” I answer. “ _To infiltrate the Sky People’s camp to see if they are trustworthy_.”

            “ _I remember seeing that ship coming down_ ,” he says with a nod. “ _Scared the horses to death. How much do you want_?”

            “ _Enough to feed less than a hundred_ ,” I answer. “ _That is how many there are_.”

            “ _It’s settled_ ,” he says with a smile.

 

* * *

 

            “Did you get enough?” Bellamy asks me when I return to their camp at midday.

            “Enough for a hundred people,” I say, unlatching the hook and opening the back of the wagon.

            I could swear I could see eyes widen at the sight of the crates of fruit, vegetables, and meat. They probably had this amount but this is most likely the first time they seen food that they wouldn’t have to ration out.

            “You weren’t lying about what you would get with the wristbands,” Clarke says, looking at the crates.

            “Metal is synonymous with gold to us,” I say.

            It takes seven people and five trips to carry the stuff from my wagon to the Dropship until the food store gets finished. Right now they are working on a wall and the food store, both almost finished.

            The building of the wall was in response to Graham’s death at the hands of Reapers.

            Considering it was almost lunch, I invited Octavia, Jasper, (who recovered from his chest wound) and Wells to help prepare lamb stew.

            “Here I go from spending sixteen years of my life under the floor to peeling potatoes on the ground,” says Octavia, looking at her umpteenth potato as she peels it.

“It’s better than having your organs eaten out of you by Reapers,” says Wells. “What happened with Graham is the reason the wall is being built in the first place.”

“That wasn’t a complaint,” says Octavia as Bellamy approaches us.

“How is it coming?” he asks.

“We’re almost done preparing the ingredients,” I say. “We will put them in the pot soon enough.”

“Good,” says Bellamy. “The food store is almost done, which means we can transfer the food from the Dropship over to there by this afternoon.”

Not far from us, Connor collapses while holding a wooden beam. He clearly looks exhausted.

“Hey!” Murphy yells, approaching Connor. “You think that the Reapers are going to sit around and wait for us to finish the wall? Maybe you should let the little girl do the lifting for you, huh?” He points to Charlotte.

“I just need some water, okay?” says Connor.

Wells begins to move to the makeshift well –

“Continue what you’re doing, Chancellor,” says Murphy. “I doubt Earth Girl will want one person less to help prepare whatever she’s making for lunch.”

Bellamy approaches him and says, “Murphy, give this guy some water.” He turns to Charlotte. “You got this?”

Murphy goes to the direction of the makeshift well while Charlotte bends to pick up the beam. “Hey, I’m just kidding,” says Bellamy with a smile before picking up the beam.

“So, are there any cute girls like you around here?” Jasper asks when I see Murphy approach Connor without a can of water. Instead, he opens up his fly before I see a stream of urine going down Connor’s back.

What the hell?

“What the hell is wrong with you, Murphy?” Connor demands, and he’s about to jump Murphy when a few people grab him and block him from Murphy.

“You wanted a water break,” says Murphy, before he yells, “Get back to work!”

Wells goes to the makeshift well anyway to get water for him while I scowl at Murphy before continuing to cut my carrot. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be on my way back to the village to report my findings to father and on the plus side that means almost an entire day of not seeing Murphy.

On the other hand, though –

“Something should be done about him,” I say.

“I agree,” says Octavia. “He is just using his position as my brother’s right hand man to be a dickbag.”

“He was a bully to begin with,” I reply as I see Wells give Connor some water. “He needs to be taken down a few pegs.”

“How?” asks Jasper as Wells returns to us and Clarke arrives with Finn.

“Want to help us prepare lamb stew?” Wells asks them.

“Yes,” says Clarke, picking up a knife and a red potato before peeling it.

“You know what could only bring a bully down a few pegs,” I say, answering Jasper’s question. _A beat down_ , I continue mentally.

Wells and Jasper look at me and Wells seems to catch on. “Costia, isn’t that rather unorthodox?” he asks.

“It’s effective,” I answer. “We believe that beat downs give a clearer message then just a speech.”

“It’s unorthodox,” he repeats.

“Wait, come again?” asks Clarke, like she just stumbled in the middle of something.

“Costia plans to bring Murphy down a few pegs,” Octavia answers. “It might seem unorthodox but I have no objections.”

“You can’t beat up Murphy and expect him to stop being a bully,” says Finn. “As Wells says, it’s unorthodox and two, he already had a beat down from our Earth Skills teacher before we came down here.”

“Did Murphy do anything to provoke him?” I ask, knowing that it wouldn’t surprise me.

“Wait, Pike gave Murphy a beat down?” asks Wells, raising his eyebrow incredulously. Like that idea was too out of this world to conceive.

“Apparently, Pike lost it and on the last day of the crash course lesson, he beat up Murphy,” says Miller as he was walking by. “One of the council members thought that we started it.”

“See, even if you do give him a beat down, it’s not going to change him,” says Finn. “He will still be a bully.”

“That depends on the circumstances,” I point out with a smirk. “This time, he might learn a thing or two. It might affect his masculinity in a way.”

When the contents were prepared we put the pot over the fire so the water can boil. Once the water starts boiling, we slide the contents right in.

“You’re not really considering giving him a beat down, are you, Costia?” Wells asks me as I cover the contents with a grill.

“He’s a bully, Wells,” I point out, before looking at him. “For all I know is that he started a knife fight with you.”

“He’s more than a bully, Costia,” says Wells. “He’s a dangerous criminal. You might end up getting hurt if you take him on.”

I send Wells a scowl. “Your concern is misplaced. I am more than capable of protecting myself.”

I take out a knife to cut pieces of bread and he stays silent for a moment before saying, “Okay, whatever floats your boat I guess,” before he walks towards the Dropship. Where Clarke and Finn went to.

I move the sliced bread in a corner on the table before paying attention to the lamb stew I was preparing.

Everything is going smoothly for ten minutes until I see Murphy start towards a boy who is trying to get water. This isn’t going to be good.

He lifts the cup when Murphy smacks it from his hand. “No water until this section is up!” shouts Murphy as his lackey intimidates the delinquent. I set my long spoon down; this has gone on long enough.

“What are you looking at?” I hear Murphy say to that kid and when I approach him, I push him back with my hand.

“Enough!” I yell.

“Wow, take a easy, Earth Girl,” he says with a smirk.

“I am not taking it easy when you are using your position as Bellamy’s right-hand man to be a tyrant,” I point out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says.

“Denying people water when they are exhausted after doing heavy lifting is tyranny, you bastard,” I point out.

“Costia, stop,” I hear Wells say, as I feel him grab my arm. “You’re going to get hurt.”

I ignore him as I continue to glare at Murphy.

“I don’t have to answer to you,” he says. “I don’t have to answer to anyone.”

“Come again?” I hear Bellamy ask, and I turn around to see him standing a few feet away, with his arms folded. Murphy looks at him like he soiled his pants.

“When you create a society with no rules, this is the result,” I say, pointing to Murphy. “Bullies thrive in this environment. Say what you want about my clan but we have rules and laws. If we didn’t society would have collapsed after the war.”

“And what does your clan do with bullies?” Bellamy asks.

“We place them down a few pegs,” I answer with a smirk. “It’s more effective than just words.”

“This is not how we do things,” Clarke tells me. “You heard Wells. It’s unorthodox.”

I’m not surprised she would side with Wells since they are now friendly terms. Turns out it was her mother that turned her father in. I still don’t know what for. Probably because Princess doesn’t trust me with certain information.

“It’s effective,” I argue. “Besides, you’re on Earth, Princess. You’re not sheltered in your space castle anymore.”

“Who’s going to be the one to beat me up?” Murphy asks, like he’s semi-anticipated for a challenge. “Why don’t you choose the Chancellor of Earth?”

Laughter ripples through the crowd and I look back at Wells. He’s shaking his head at me, like he doesn’t want me to give me any form of answer.

I look back at Murphy. “Wells isn’t going to be fighting with you this time. I am.”

Murphy smirks, shakes his head, and chuckles. “You? A girl?” he asks, beside himself with laughter. “Come on. I had a grown man deck me last week on the Ark. This is like a downgrade.”

“What are the rules of this challenge that you issued him?” Bellamy asks.

“Bellamy, no!” Clarke exclaims, looking at him as if she thinks he should handle the situation better.

“First, no weapons,” I say, as I begin to remove my knife from my belt. “Second, there should be two people standing by to intervene if one of the two involved parties gets carried away.” I hand my knife to Jasper. “And I choose Wells and Finn.”

“It’s settled,” says Bellamy. “Everyone, make a circle and steer clear from them!”

Everyone does as he says and I see Wells looking at me as if I had lost my mind. I know what I’m doing. I have taken down Ice Nation warriors twice my size when I was thirteen.

Murphy mutters to himself as he hands his weapons to his lackey. Clarke looks at Bellamy like she wants to reprimand him.

“Whoever loses this fight gets humiliated,” Murphy says as we start to circle. Looking at me as if he knows the outcome.

“Joke’s on you, Sky Boy,” I say. “I doubt you’re going to retain your pride afterwards.”

Our feet crunch on the dirt as we circle and I flex my hand muscles in case he makes the first punch.

I block the first punch with my palm and send a punch to his nose. When he’s about to fall back, I grab a handful of his shirt to bring him closer before sinking my fist into his stomach. He crumbles to the ground as laughter ripples through the crowd.

“If you want to punch someone in the gut, best to disorient them by punching them in the nose first,” father told me one fall day back when I was eight. It’s a big perk when your own father mentors you, especially if he’s the military leader of the clan.

I give Murphy the chance to stand up. He does slowly, using his palms to push himself up before facing me. I block a blow with my elbow before grabbing his wrists before flipping him to the ground. He grabs my feet, bringing me down with him and I answer with a kick in the nose. He puts his hands on his face as I deliver a punch in the ribs, the stomach, and his eye.

I stand him up and turn his body over to deliver a kick to his back. The Sky People are beside themselves, though Clarke, Wells, and Finn are among the few not laughing.

“Let’s be clear on one thing,” I say, bending over to be at eye level. “You had this coming.”

I walk away from the scene, feeling like I accomplished something.

If I learned one thing about the Sky People: if you’re a male and you get it handed to you by a girl, you become a laughing stock. They still have quite a ways to go.


	6. Chapter Six

It’s been a few hours after I decked Murphy and I smirk in satisfaction as he limps through the camp, chuckles coming his way.

            “Not so tough now, is he?” I hear someone ask followed by a chorus of chuckles.

            “Shut up, Dax,” Murphy spits out before continuing on.

            “That really wasn’t necessary,” Wells tells me after I put the crate of apples into the finished food store. “Does your society rely on aggression all the time?”

            “We tried pacifism and it didn’t work out for us,” I reply. “Thanks to me, Murphy has been downgraded to a butt monkey, and I didn’t get hurt so, everything is fine.”

            “Why did you give up on pacifism?” Wells asks me.

            I sigh and say, “The fact that the alliance between the eleven clans of the Coalition was at war with Ice Nation. We, the Blue Cliff Clan, the Rock Line Clan, the Lake People, and the Desert Clan got the brunt of it because we shared borders with them. We were vulnerable targets because of that and at the First Commander’s request, our clan toughened up. We have been at war with them for nearly two centuries.”

            Wells flinches. “Are you still at war?”

            “We had a ceasefire five years ago,” I answer. “They joined the Coalition but there is fear that if something happens, they will use it to the advantage.”

            He pauses before saying, “That reminds me of the Unity Day story. Twelve stations in space joined to create the Ark two years after the war, but that was merely because Alpha station blew up Polaris, the thirteenth station.”

            Polaris, where the name Polis comes from. The name of the station where the First Commander resided before she descended to Polis. It has to be the same one, since the Commander’s Journal says that she left with the Flame right before the deadline for when that station was supposed to join the others in space.

            “Do they know why the thirteenth station refused to dock?” I ask.

            “That was always a mystery,” he says as Finn peaks his head in.

            “Monty is almost done finishing attaching the communication to the Dropship mainframe,” says Finn. “We will be connected to the Ark in a few.”

            “Okay,” says Wells in reply. “I will be there shortly.”

            “So, you will be able to communicate with your people up there?” I ask.

            “Hopefully it works, or they will think we’re all dead,” he says before leaving the food store.

            If the Sky People had any brains, they would know that they would have died simultaneously when exposed to radiation. Too bad Wells, Monty, and Clarke are the only ones with functioning brains. For Clarke, however, it seems to have gone to her head.

            I go back outside, where they are eating what’s left of the lamb stew or playing board games. Passing Bellamy’s tent, I could easily hear the moans and groans indicating sexual activity.

            Sounds like he nailing more than one girl from the sounds of it. Someone is going to be sore.

            I myself decide to get some lamb stew and I am about to ladle some into a bowl when I hear the sound of electronics frying. I look around to see the wristbands that are still on the Sky People’s hands flash a couple times before going out.

            Something must have fried up the wristbands somehow. It’s not long before I see a fuming Finn barge out of the Dropship; with Clarke following him.

            “Great, now they think we’re all dead,” says someone from a distance.

            I hide a scoff. Their people are a bunch of idiots for assuming that they all die in less then a week.

 

* * *

 

            I sleep in the Dropship that night. Outside, I could hear excited and curious mutters of the “delinquents”.            Like they are seeing something falling from the sky. I don’t investigate since I’m tired and didn’t want to ruin my sleep pattern.

            When I got up the next morning, I see Harper and Miller place a piece of preserved cow meat over the fire but no sign of Bellamy, Clarke, Wells, Octavia, and Finn. Probably investigating something.

            “Hey,” yells Jasper as he runs towards me. “You missed it! A pod came down last night.”

            A pod? “Was that the thing you were excited about?” I ask as I unhook Athena from the tree.

            “I am hoping that they have something,” says Jasper as I mount the horse. “Like a radio…hunting supplies…wait, where are you going?”

            “To check on things back home,” I answer with a shrug.

            “Will you be back?” he asks, like he doesn’t want to see me go.

            “Sure,” I say with a smile. “I just have to let my family know that I haven’t been taken by Reapers.”

            I tug her reins and she begins to gallop from the camp. One thing I learned about _Jasper kom Skaikru_ is that he’s rather trusting of new people he meets. In a way he reminds me of my brother due to that quality.

            Hopefully my double-cross will him something about not trusting strangers.

 

* * *

 

            It takes two hours to return to Brighton Village by horseback. The guards at the watchtowers and at the gate are at their posts like always. When I pass the gate, I hop off Athena and hand her to Rory.

            “ _Costia_!” shouts Anya as she approaches me; Tris close to her side. “ _Long time, no see_.”

            “ _Same, Anya_ ,” I say. “ _Is father not busy at the moment_?”

            “ _He’s in his study marking his map_ ,” she answers, “ _but you wouldn’t be interrupting anything important_.”

            Probably marking the landing spot of the pod that must have come down yesterday. Father always marks the sight of battles, villages, and rarely, the landing sites of ships.

            I am accompanied by Anya and her Second as I enter my house, nodding to William and Lorie as we enter the house. The wooden floor creaks under my feet as we make way to his office.

            Anya knocks on the translucent glass of his office door and he says, “ _Come in_.”

            She enters before me and says, “ _Costia has arrived with info, Tristan_.” She moves out of the way so I could enter. Father sets down his ink quill and I notice a new ‘x’ on our territory. According to the map, the east coast and Midwest of the former United States is inhabited. Far out west is uninhabited.

            “ _Thank you, Anya_ ,” he says. After she leaves, he says, “ _Costia, have a seat_.”

            I approach his desk and sit down in one of the two chairs so I could face him. His stern veneer could intimidate anyone. Though he doesn’t intimidate me and my siblings.

            “ _Now, what new developments have you come across_?” he asks, as he begins to write on parchment. “ _One of the exterior intel reported that one of them was killed by Reapers_.”

            “ _Yes,_ ” I answer. “ _It forced them to build a wall around the camp. It’s nearly completed but if I’m correct, the gate might be vulnerable to attack_.”

            “ _They probably didn’t secure it right_ ,” he deduces, writing something down. “ _Have you taken note of their capabilities_?”

            “ _They say they are convicts_ ,” I answer, “ _and they appear rather unskilled. However, that could be just their strategy to appear unskilled_.”

            But Wells Jaha and Jasper are removed from that equation. As for Monty, it seems his only strength is technology.

            Father curls his lips into a smile and says, “ _I taught you well. About being wary of new people. At least it went into that skull of yours, unlike your brother_.”

            Father can be a little stricter with Nigel then Bristol and I, but that’s because of his tendency to be trusting and to not expect the worst. A Woods Clan warrior should always expect the worst of new people, for if he doesn’t, he could risk getting stabbed in the back and left for dead.

            “ _Last I knew, they were trying to contact their people with no luck_ ,” I say. “ _I doubt it has anything to do with the pod coming down last night_.”       

Father pauses to process the information before saying, “ _Stay at their camp for a additional five weeks and report what you find in two weeks. If five weeks has passed and they haven’t showed any signs of hostility, we should begin to integrate them with us. As that’s what the Commander wants_.”

But there is a chance that the Mountain Men would want to do the same thing: integrate them with their society. They might even beat us to it.

 

* * *

 

I stop to the village artillery to fill two quivers with arrows, as the “delinquents” should get on with hunting with for wild game and such.

By the time I was done, I decide to have some brunch since I didn’t eat anything for breakfast before taking off. The brunch meal for today was toast (with peach preserves optional), pork, and tomatoes. Every day is something different to eat.

The canteen is half full. Typical as not everyone participates in brunch.

“ _Look who is back_?” I hear Nigel ask before he drops into a seat next to me.

“ _Keeping out of trouble during your daily patrols, Nigel_?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes. “ _Yes, but that’s because my companions will tell father if I make a mistake. Did you see that pod last night_?”

“ _No, but I heard about it_ ,” I answer, taking a bite from my tomato.

“ _Anya’s scouts pinpointed its location_ ,” answers Nigel. “ _Approximately two hours from here. Want to join Corrine and me to check it out after you eat_?”

“ _Alright, but I have to be back by nightfall_ ,” I say. I don’t know the Sky People that well but one can’t break a promise to someone like Jasper.

 

* * *

 

“ _Keeping a eye on the newcomers’ for the Commander_?” Corrine asks as the three of us make our way to the landing site of the space pod.

“ _Just to see whether they are trustworthy_ ,” I answer, moving away a branch so that it no one can trip over it. “ _Five more weeks and if they don’t commit acts of hostility, we can integrate them into our society_.”

“ _Well_ , _a few days ago, Gibbon and Santiago from Crestwood Village got hung for disobeying the Commander’s orders_ ,” Corrine says, pushing her red braids from her shoulder.

“ _What did they do_?” I ask, even though I know that the most recent of Lexa’s orders was to not touch the Sky People until it had been verified otherwise, unless you want a kill order placed on you. It could only mean one thing.

“ _One of them threw a spear at one of them after they crossed the river the Sky Peoples’ second day here_ ,” answers Nigel. “ _Anton saw it and reported it to Caliban, who reported to Anya and Anya told father. Then father sent his rider to inform the Village Council of Crestwood_.”

“ _I told them it would be rectified and I knew it would be_ ,” I say. “ _They should be grateful that they landed here. Had it been Ice Nation, they all would have been slaughtered_.”

“ _The dangerous part of it is the snow_ ,” says Corrine. “ _Being in space they most likely only seen pictures of it. The Ice Nation uses the presence of snow as an advantage_.”

I have seen the snow in Azgeda before during battles. It’s beautiful. So beautiful that one would get killed if they were distracted by it, even momentarily. And Queen Nia’s soldiers have used it for their advantage before.

We trudge through the woods for two hours until we spot a hunk of rusted metal. So, that’s the pod that fell from space last night while I slept?

“ _It looks like the pod that the First Commander arrived in_ ,” says Nigel, his body slack as he raises his eyebrows.

“ _It does_ ,” I say. “ _Must be two hundred years old_.”

“ _It’s a wonder how the pod even came down here_ ,” says Corrine, looking at the pod. The doors were open and by one of them was a antiqued space suit. Which means that the occupant has already left.

Nigel takes a screwdriver from his belt. “ _I wonder if the metal inside that pod would be a valuable trade._ ”

So, he wants to gut out the pod for anything to barter with? Why should I criticize, since I basically traded most of the wristbands for food?

           

* * *

 

            After helping them gut out the pod, I return to the village to retrieve my horse so I could return back to camp. The sun is setting, so they are wondering where I’m at. Hopefully they don’t think that the Reapers don’t get to me.

            Wells should be pleased that I bought extra quivers of arrows and bows with me.

            I wasn’t long until my journey back to the Dropship when I saw them. Purple flares lighting the dark sky. Zooming over my head.

            If my calculations are correct, they are going in the direction of Hanover Village. Hopefully they don’t hit the village. Unfortunately, even if they don’t hit, it’s going to be considered a sign of hostility from the Sky People.

            However, the flares drive me to go back to their camp faster.

            “Athena, faster,” I beckon, my heart thumping in my fingers. I have to see why they sent the flares. They might lie to me, but still information is better than no information.


	7. Chapter Seven

            “Have you seen Octavia?” Bellamy asks after Miller opens the gate for me to enter.

            “No,” I say as I unmount from Athena. “I thought you had a tighter hold on her, especially since you’re so new to this earth.”

            I want to ask him about those missiles I saw streaking against the sky, but since his mind is on his sister he’s not the person to ask. I gather the extra quiver and arrows and I head to the first tent I can think of.

            “Costia! You’re here!” shouts Jasper.

            I ignore him as I approach my destination.

            I lift the flap and stop in my tracks. A girl that I have never seen before is cutting Finn’s hair with a pair of scissors. Her light brown skin is complimented by her dark brown hair tied back in a ponytail.

            Technically, I am sexually attracted to people only after establishing a connection but I can’t lie about the beauty of this mysterious girl. She’s…attractive.

            Looking at the way she smiles at him and how her fingers seem familiar with his hair, one could tell that she’s his girlfriend. So, he has a girlfriend after all.

            Hopefully she finds someone better since he flirted with me and then Clarke down here.

            I stand there before releasing the flap when I see Wells, who looks immensely relieved at the sight of me. “Costia, where were you?” he asks. “Jasper says that you left the camp at daybreak and didn’t return until a few minutes ago.”

            “I had to check on things at home and I ate brunch since I didn’t eat anything this morning,” I answer. “Then my brother wanted to check out the pod that fell last night and I was riding back here when I saw the flares. Why?”

            “I was hoping that you return sooner to help me talk Clarke and Raven out of it from using flares to contact the Ark,” he says, looking troubled. “We don’t know this territory well like you do. For all we know, they could have landed in a village.”

            “Unfortunately, they were headed in the direction of a village three hours from here,” I answer. “Hopefully they didn’t land there.”

            I walk to the Dropship to stow away the extra quivers and bows and Wells follows me. “Raven’s pod fell from the sky last night and considering the flares, your people might see correlation with those two events.”

            Wow, he just cracked my father’s and Anya’s train of thinking. Knowing father, he would see correlation between the two events and so would Anya. I guess decades of battle could do that to someone.

            “I wouldn’t doubt that at all,” I say. “We only had five years of peacetime after nearly two centuries of war.”

            “I’m surprised you haven’t turned cynical,” he says.

            He’s wrong. I am cynical. I have fought in battles since I was eight and the last time I fought I was fourteen. I have twelve kill marks to prove it.

            I hear the curtain pull back and Bellamy says, “I need you out here. Now.”

            “He’s under duress by the sound of it,” says Wells.

            “His sister is missing,” I say.

            Outside, a handful of people gather around Bellamy as he drops a bundle wrapped in a tarp.

            “Hey, everybody, gather around and grab a weapon,” says Bellamy as he unwraps it to reveal an array of handmade weapons. “My sister’s been out there alone for twelve hours. Arm up. We’re not coming back without her.”

            As people nearest to the tarp grabs a weapon, I say, “Twelve hours? For all we know, she could have been snatched by Reapers.”

            “Quiet,” says Bellamy, shooting me a glare as Jasper picks up a weapon.

            Oops, guess like I never should have said that.

            “Well, since you know the territory maybe you should come with us,” says Murphy.

            “Listen, I haven’t been in touch with my people since this morning,” I point out. “Last I knew they were just monitoring the area of the pod landing. Due to the flares, they might see correlation between that and the pod landing and as a matter of fact, I don’t want to be seen with you when you’re armed until I know for sure what has happened.”

            Technically, nothing bad will happen to me if I was spotted with them since almost everyone would know that I’m infiltrating the Sky People’s camp. It’s just part of my façade.

            “The weapons are for if we come into contact with Reapers,” Bellamy clarifies.

            “I know that,” I say, before turning away. “They might not.”

            After a while I hear Bellamy say, “Finn! Get out here!”

            I go back into the Dropship to continue reading _War of the Worlds_ , since I need to do something if Wells is going to participate in the search party. I know Bellamy wanted his help but I fear that he might get killed since my people must be on red alert.

            If it is what I fear, father might send Rivo to Polis to pass a message to Lexa. Hopefully it’s just me being my usual cynical self and that everything is okay.

            I hear the voices of the search party quiet down, which indicates that they left and when I turn the page to chapter seventeen when the curtain is pushed aside and Clarke comes in with Finn’s girlfriend following her.

            “Think you are up to coming with us to that bunker you found in the woods during the Acid Fog?” Clarke asks me.

            “Are you going to be armed?” I ask, raising my eyebrow.

            “We’re just going to find some material to fix the radio so we can contact the Ark,” she says.

            I blow air into my cheeks before sighing and getting up. “You should have done this hours ago,” I mutter.

            The three of us exit the Dropship, and I tightly clutch my quiver.

            “So, there were survivors on the ground after all,” says Finn’s girlfriend as I grab a burning torch from the fence.

            “Yep,” I answer. “We all descended from survivalists and doomsday preppers according to the log of my village. People considered them crazy but the bunkers were worth it in the end.”

            “Since the Nuclear Apocalypse came out of nowhere, that would make sense,” she says before looking at me. “Your name is Costia, right?”

            “That would be correct,” I answer.

            She offers her hand. “Raven,” she introduces. “Raven Reyes.”

            “Pleasure to meet you, Raven of the Sky People,” I say, shaking her hand.

            The three of us leave the camp and a few seconds later, Raven says, “I can’t believe you and others survived on the ground for two centuries.”

            “And I can’t believe that you all survived in space for two centuries,” I say. “We all thought you died off until fifteen years ago when a pod landed near TonDC.”

            “I think I heard stories,” says Clarke. “I heard that a man escaped in a pod after committing a murder fifteen years ago.”

            “TonDC?” asks Raven, raising her eyebrow incredulously. “As in Washington D.C?”

            “Yes, what was once the political epicenter of the former United States of America now still a political epicenter for the Coalition,” I answer. “The Coalition makes up twelve clans.”

            “Looks like you also banded together for survival,” says Raven. “Is it as old as the Ark or recent?”

            “Eleven groups of survivors were united under the First Commander three years after the bombs fell but one group refused to join and we fought with that clan for nearly two centuries until five years ago,” I answer.

            “That is a rather bloody and drawn-out counterpart to the Unity Day story,” I hear Clarke mutter from ahead of us.

            We walk for a few minutes and when I kick a branch from the path, Raven asks, “Do you have a map of the area?”

            I pull out the map from the inside pocket of my coat and give it to her. I see her unfold it from my peripheral vision and she analyzes it. “Are the blue x’s villages?” she asks.

            “Yes,” I answer. “Twelve in total, with each village having a uneven civilian and warrior count and they vary in size. The total population of the clan is three thousand and three hundred when you add up the village populations. Everyone knows everyone practically.”

            “Why is Mount Weather in the red?” Raven asks.

            “It’s a danger zone,” I answer. “Cross into it and you are dead.”

            “Are there radioactive monsters in there or something?” Raven asks.

            “It is much worse than radioactive monsters that science fiction doesn’t have to imagine it,” I answer.

            “Can you give us an idea?” Clarke asks. “Just so we know what to worry about?”

            I heave a sigh. I was going to reserve this for Wells for when he asks about why Mount Weather is such a big threat to us. And since Clarke asked, I might as well tell her.

            “There is something you have to know,” I answer. “Ever since the dawn of humanity, people have revealed their inhumanity by committing violence and genocide towards people who they deemed inferior. Around the creation of the atomic bomb, it’s been known that a civilized society tried to eradicate people they deemed inferior and different from themselves. A face of someone from an advanced society could very well hide a demon.”

            “Let me get this straight: before the delinquents landed, you guys were not alone either?” Raven asks.

            “We are never alone,” I say.

            For a few hours we trek the woods in silence. By daybreak I douse the flame since we didn’t need the flames to guide us through the woods. We stop by a bush of orange lilies and Raven stops to look before touching one. “They so beautiful,” she says.

            “Raven, I know you just got here yesterday,” says Clarke, “but we don’t have time for this. Come on.”

            Raven snorts before plucking one from the bush. “Hurry up and save the world. You’re just like your mom,” she says.

            “I’m nothing like my mom,” says Clarke, exasperated.

            “Relax,” says Raven. “That’s a compliment. Abby’s a badass. The pod was her idea. It broke her heart not being able to come down with me, but she never stopped believing you were alive.”

            “Yeah,” says Clarke, still not changing her mood. “Mother of the year.”

            Raven wouldn’t know that Clarke found out from Wells that her mother was the one that turned her father in but she will eventually.

            “Well, my mom was AWOL for most of my life,” Raven says as I see the leaves covering the bunker door. “When she did show up, it was empty handed. Pretty sure she just had me to trade in my rations for moonshine.”

            I bend down to brush away the leaves from the door. “My mother was gone for most of my life too,” I say before opening the door. “Snatched in the dead of winter nine years ago. It was just my father that raised me and my siblings. Anyway, how did you manage to survive with your mother being a negligent deadbeat?”

            “Boy next door,” Raven replies. “Finn.”

            Something sparks in Clarke’s eyes. Like she was betrayed by him just recently.

            “He shared his rations,” said Raven. “Remembered my birthday. Saved my life. He’s my family.”

            Just wait until she disowns him when she finds out that he flirted with me and Clarke, though judging by Clarke’s eyes it looks like it evolved into more than just flirting. By that case he earns the reward of prick of the year.

            Clarke opens the bunker door and one by one we climb down. By the time I reach the bunker floor, I move to light the oil lamps.

            “What does your father do for a living?” Raven asks me.

            _My father is Tristan kom Trikru, General of Trigeda’s military forces_ , I answer mentally, but revealing that information will be dangerous especially with these new developments such as the flares. So I give Raven the lie I have given Wells, Bellamy, Clarke, Finn, Octavia, and Jasper: “He’s a woodsman. He hunts for a living.”

            “We all need those,” says Raven. “Has he taught you and your siblings anything about hunting?”

            “A lot actually,” I say. In a way, it’s not a lie technically. Back when I was young, during the times when we didn’t fight with Ice Nation, father would take us to the woods and teach us how to hunt. Basically because hunting and harvesting food is an important aspect of our lives.

            “Can we please stop talking and find something that would be useful to fix the radio with,” says Clarke.

            “Let’s start with the boxes,” I say. “There should still be full of supplies that are not salvaged yet.”

            Raven looks around the bunker as Clarke and I grab a plastic bin and place it on the table.

            “Let’s try this one,” says Clarke as she lifts the lid.

            “This place looks like a treasure trove,” says Raven before looking at me. “Does this belong to your family?”

            “No,” I answer. “We just happen to know where the bunkers were located.”

            Clarke picks up a toy car with a wire and shows it to Raven. “Hey, will this work?”

            Raven’s face lights up. “Sweet,” she says, grabbing the car before analyzing it. “RF. Radio frequency.” She sets it down and says, “If we can just find the controller, we’ll be golden.”

            “Alright,” says Clarke as I look around the bin for the controller for the toy car. As I remove the sheet from the bin so we can get better access to the goods here, I see Raven bend down and pick up a metallic object.

            “Finn made this,” says Raven.

            Clarke hesitates before she says, “Oh, yeah. We saw this two-headed deer on our first day on the ground. Welcome to paradise, right?”

            “And thanks to you, that deer ran off before I can even shoot it,” I reply as I set my eyes on the controller. “Aha! Jackpot!”

            Raven turns to see my find and Clarke hands her a screwdriver after I hand her the controller. “Finn always does that,” Raven says, as she screws the controller open. “Finds the beauty in the unexpected.”

            Judging by the slight change in her mood, I can tell that she dropped the ball. That she just learned that he is a two-timer.

 

* * *

 

            We’re silent as we walk back to camp and overhead, the sky darkens suggesting a incoming storm. Perhaps a hurricane. In any case I should secure the food store so it doesn’t blow down from the winds.

            “I am going to secure the food store so that it doesn’t blow down from the wind,” I say as we enter the camp. “It looks like it could storm. Maybe it’s a hurricane.”

            “Wells made sure it was sturdy,” says Clarke. “It should be fine.”

            “Better safe than sorry,” I answer before walking off.

            I unroll the tarp from the roof of the food store and tie the hook to the ground. Overhead is the clap of thunder and I can feel it start to sprinkle.

            When I am finished with the first side, I hear Wells shout urgently, “Clarke! Where’s Clarke?!”

            I roll my eyes as I leave my task to investigate. Clarke this and Clarke that. I don’t know what’s so interesting about her. I approach the gate and Clarke runs to see why they called her.

            “Hey,” she says. “I’m here. What’s up?”

            Her question seems to be answered, as after a bruised-up Octavia enters with Jasper and Wells, Bellamy passes through the gate, carrying a unconscious Finn. Sticking out of Finn’s torso is a knife.


	8. Chapter Eight

            Clarke’s eyes widen in shock as she sees the sight of Finn with the knife sticking out of him.

            “Finn!” she says panicking before running to him. “Finn!?”

            She checks his vitals and I see Murphy lock eyes with me. His face flushes red and I place the handle to my knife as he lunges towards me.

            “No!” Wells shouts, grabbing Murphy with Jasper’s help. “She had nothing to do with this.”

            “She might not of but her people did,” says Murphy, glaring at me.

            “Murphy, enough!” exclaims Bellamy, glaring at him. “Costia had nothing to with that Grounder stabbing Finn. She had nothing to do with what happened with Diggs, Roma, and Mbege.”

            “She’s one of them,” Murphy spat out. “Guilty by association.”

            “She’s helping us,” Bellamy spits out. “If she were to harm us, she would have done it right when we came to the ground.”

            I don’t know if I should feel angry or intrigued by the fact that he underestimates my people. Guess he never thought that they would be smart enough to have someone infiltrate their camp.

            Clarke has Finn taken to the Dropship and she turns to me, her eyes full of desperation. “Costia, you fixed Jasper the second day we were on the ground. Surely you know how to take a knife out.”

            She’s asking me something I have no knowledge of? I don’t know how to medically take out a knife. I have seen it done but that doesn’t mean I know how. As for taking out blades, I have done it before but only after plunging my sword into Ice Nation warriors when we were at war.

            “I was able to fix Jasper because I had the knowledge to do what needed to be done,” I point out. “I only know how to use medicinal plants.”

            I walk away to finish what I was doing. After which, I go into the Dropship, where I’m met by Wells.

            “What happened?” I ask.

            “We tracked Octavia to a cave,” he says quietly. “A native was unconscious and Finn picked up the foghorn from the man’s body and that’s when he got stabbed.”

            What. A. Idiot. No one should ever pick up something from someone that might be armed and pretending to be unconscious. Only a fool would do such an asinine thing.

            “That idiot,” I mutter before going into the Dropship. I see that they have Finn lying down on a table, still unconscious. “Let me go stop the bleeding.”

            I rip off his shirt and jacket. The knife is in his body good and blood is continuing to gush out. I wrap cloth around the knife to contain the bleeding before sniffing the knife, because we tend to poison our knives.

            Yes. The knife is poisoned.

            I have an antidote with me but I have to wait until they get the knife out before I can give him the antidote. And I don’t know how long that will be.

            As the storm moves in, the delinquents take shelter in the Dropship, with some keeping the curtain down from the force of the wind. With the added humidity caused by the multiple human bodies, I take off my vest and long-sleeved shirt until I’m in my camisole, trousers, and boots.

All the while, Raven keeps speaking to the radio, saying, “This is Raven Reyes calling Ark Station. Please come in” and other variations

            I sit in a corner with my book in my lap, trying to stay away from the crowd, though Wells joins me.

            “I think I was right,” says Wells. “They most likely saw correlation in the pod landing and the flares, which means that we must have done something. When we were looking for Octavia, we were chased by a group. Mbege had his throat slit. Diggs ran into a tripwire and got impaled. Roma was speared to a tree.”

            “The General of our clan has a unit of rangers that patrol the area during peacetime,” I say. “That was most likely who you encountered.”

            It’s weird speaking about my father without a possessive term but Wells thinks that my father is just a woodsman. Something that I made him believe.

            After a while, a new voice fills the room. “This is a restricted channel,” says a man. “Who is this? Please identify yourself.”

            “The radio’s working,” says Wells as he joins the group surrounding Raven. I follow him.

            “This is Raven Reyes,” Raven repeats. “I’m from Mecha Station. I’m transmitting from the ground. The hundred are alive. Please, you need to get Dr. Abby Griffin. Dr. Abby Griffin. Now.”

            “Hang on, Raven,” says a different person from the radio. “We’re trying to boost your signal.”

            There’s static as we hear a pause from the other side.

            “Raven,” says an older female voice. Probably this Abby Griffin they talk about. “Are you there?”

            Raven looks at Clarke and nods. With hesitation, Clarke approaches the radio and asks, “Mom? Mom it’s me”

            There is nothing but static from the other side until Abby says in relief, “Clarke?”

            “Mom, I need your help,” says Clarke. “One of our people was stabbed by a Grounder.”

            “Clarke, this is the chancellor.” Another new voice comes from the radio. An older man by the sound of it. It has to Wells’s father since he is their leader who enforces the rules.

            “Dad?” Wells asks quietly, looking and sounding hopeful.

            “Are you saying there are survivors on the ground?” asks Wells’s dad

            “Yes,” Clarke answers. “The Earth is survivable. We are not alone.”

            I roll my eyes. The Earth is safe to us. It’s safe to the Sky People. However, if the Mountain Men go outside without protective gear on, they get roasted from the inside out.

            There’s another pause before Clarke continues, “Mom, he’s dying. The knife is still in his chest.”

            More static.

“Clarke, is my son with you?” asks Wells’s father. Like he feared the worst a few days prior. As if he’s hoping that he’s alive.

            Raven looks at Wells and nods. Wells approaches the radio and says, “I’m here, dad.”

            Radio static once more. “Wells, thank god you’re alive,” he says, his voice choked up with emotion.

            “We have so much to talk about, dad,” says Wells, “but we have important matters.”

            “I will hand you over to Abby Griffin but I will talk with you when you’re done with the procedure,” says his father.

            Clarke’s mother comes back on. “I’m going to talk you through it step by step.”

            _Bang_!

            Everyone looks around, startled. Definitely a hurricane.

            “Clarke, just five to get to medical. Medic…” Clarke’s mother is cut off by static.

            “What?” asks Clarke before she rushes to Raven. “Raven what’s wrong?”

            “It’s not the radio,” says Raven gritting her teeth in irritation. “It’s the storm.”

            Clarke pauses before saying, “We need to improvise medical equipment. Costia, see what’s in your medicinal case that we can use. Octavia, find something to sanitize our hands with. Raven, find something to stitch him up with after I take the knife out.”

            Octavia and Raven go in different directions while I retrieve my provisions bag from the corner I was occupying earlier. I throw my bag on the nearest table and open it. The first thing I take out is my roll of bandages.

            “Good!” Clarke says in relief. “We could use these to cover the wound.”

            I snap open my medicinal case and take out the antidote.

            “What is that?” Clarke asks, looking at the bottle.

            “When I tried to stop the bleeding, I smelled poison from the knife,” I answer. “Just be glad I have a antidote but I can’t give it to him until the knife is out of his rib cage.”

            Clarke pauses before she says, “The more I learn about your clan, the less I like them.”

            I roll my eyes as Octavia, who is soaking wet, comes in with two cans. Clarke takes one of them and sniffs. Her nose wrinkles in disgust. “Monty’s moonshine?” she asks.

            “Pretty sure no germ can survive it,” says Octavia.

            We hear something get knocked down from outside. “Storm’s getting worse,” says Clarke before looking at a girl with braids in her hair or Monroe I remember her being called. “Monroe, close the doors.”

            “We still got people out there,” Monroe replies.

            “Miller and Murphy are still not back yet,” says Octavia as they work with the moonshine. “Neither is Bellamy.”

            I snort. “They are up to something. Bellamy knew the storm was coming and he left. If you leave your dwelling even with the presence of danger, that means you’re up to something. That’s what my people believe.”

            “Your people see the worst in everything from the sounds of it,” Raven says before handing Clarke a needle. “Here is a suture needle.”

            “Great,” says Clarke as she takes the needle. “We need something to close the wound with.”

            “I have just the thing,” I say. I pull out a roll of thread.

            “Excellent.” Clarke takes the roll. “Anything is better than nothing.”

            “They are back!” someone shouts and Bellamy enters. Right behind him is Miller and Murphy, supporting a unconscious person and it’s not until they throw the person on the floor that I recognize who it is. Even with the blindfold.

            “Lincoln?” I ask.

            “Is he a friend of yours?” Murphy asks me snidely.

            “He’s a friendly acquaintance but for one, of course I would know him since we’re in the same clan, you idiot,” I snap. “And second let him go.”

            “He captured Octavia,” says Bellamy dryly, “and you weren’t there when he plunged the knife in Finn’s rib cage.”

            “Is this your revenge?” asks Octavia, looking disgusted with her brother.

            “No,” says Bellamy. “This is for intel. We need to know what we’re up against.”

            They are going to do what to Lincoln?

            “I don’t know what happened but they didn’t start this,” says Wells. “We launched the flares before entering armed in their territory.”

            “They started it the moment they speared Jasper,” says Bellamy. “Get him up the ladder.”

            “That act was rectified,” I reply. “The people who did that got hung.”

            “It doesn’t matter now,” Bellamy says.

            “Clarke, we’re ready,” Clarke’s mother says from the radio.

            “Bellamy, this is not who we are,” Clarke begs. “Just take him out of here as Costia said.”

            “Clarke?” asks her mother as Bellamy and Clarke stare at each other.

            “It is now,” he says.

            I think of something. I think about knocking the lights out of Murphy and Miller before grabbing Lincoln. It might be storming outside but at least I should make a run for it. However, if I do that, they might do the same to me like they plan to do to Lincoln.

            I need autonomy for what I was assigned to do and I won’t be able to pass along information if I become a prisoner here.

            I glare at them before moving out of the way. Octavia looks at them before turning to me, looking pleading. Like she wants me to do something. I might not free him now but I will soon.

            “Indra’s going to love this,” I mutter. What’s terrible is that she might not know until the storm passes. They are going to think that he’s riding it out somewhere but they will notice by lunchtime.

            “Indra?” Wells asks me as I hear Clarke talking to her mother over the radio.

            “She’s chief of the village he’s in because the population is too small to have a functioning council,” I answer, “and the Lieutenant Colonel of the clan’s military forces. You surely don’t want to be on her bad side.”

            “I wouldn’t want to be on any of their bad sides from what little I have seen,” Wells says.

            “To put it this way, it’s nothing to be on Indra’s bad side considering her rank,” I say. “If you get on Tristan’s bad side, it’s even more dangerous.”

            But my father will not get involved unless Anya’s unable to do it. If there is a threat against the clan that’s small, the Lieutenant is usually tasked to squash out the threat. If the threat proves to be more then what that individual can handle, the General will step in and take care of it. Anya is usually good at quashing threats this size.

            I hope it doesn’t get to the point where father gets involved since he’s done a number on Ice Nation military encampments during the war. That doesn’t mean that I trust the Sky People.

            The crowd gets rowdy, forcing Clarke to order everyone to the second floor so she can concentrate on that procedure. Wells and I decide to stay down here to watch the procedure being done and so I can be there for when it’s time for the antidote. Though anyone can tip the bottle to his mouth. However, just hearing the exchange between Clarke and her mother brings the blood rushing to my face and my hands shake.

            I can’t stand being down here. I can’t stand the reality of the fact that she still has her mother and that I lost my own mother nine years ago in the dead of winter. If I stay any longer I might break something.

            “Excuse me,” I say, before leaving Wells’s side and going up the ladder. Climbing as far as up to the hatch door. I bang on the door. “Open the hatch! Hey! Hey!”

            The hatch is opened with hesitation and after I climb in, I notice that Lincoln is tied to the walls; with his arms outstretched.

            “Trying to interfere, Earth Girl?” Murphy asks.

            “Where else would I go if there is a hurricane outside?” I spit out. “I want a few minutes without remembering the fact that my mother is dead and that Clarke still has hers.”

            “Relax,” says Bellamy, walking towards me. “You shouldn’t be here anyway. I know you have reservations about this, Costia.”

            I spit on the ground. “You should have thought of that before you went out into that hurricane to capture one of my people because he captured your sister.”

            “You would understand I did what I had to do to protect my sister!” Bellamy says, raising his voice slightly. “You have a brother of your own and if we went in and captured him like your friend did to Octavia you would have done the same.”

            I glare at him, feeling the veins popping in my head. “I would not do the same as you. You know nothing about me.”

            “Think about it,” says Bellamy. “Your clan has been at war with a rival clan for nearly two centuries. You of all people should understand why I did this.”

            I glare at Bellamy. It’s no use arguing with either him or Bellamy at the moment.

            “Just a piece of information,” I say. “He will understand you but he won’t give you information. It’s a tactic that was taught to warriors and civilians during the war with Ice Nation, even though civilians were less likely to get captured. Second, expect our people to look for him.”

           “There wasn’t a soul outside when we caught him,” says Bellamy as I go through the hatch. “You have multiple enemies. They won’t know it’s us. They will think that the Reapers took him.”

            “You went into the vicinity of two villages with weapons a few hours before you bought him here,” I point out. “My clan is not a bunch of idiots. They will put two and two together and they will go out looking for him.”

            I go down the ladder and close the hatch before climbing down to the ladder. Wells is still seated where I last saw him. So, I return to sitting down next to him. The knife is still in Finn’s rib cage.

            “Bellamy not budging?” asks Wells.

            “No,” I say. “He thinks it’s what’s best for everyone here. He’s opening a can of worms.”

            “How long until his village chief discovers he’s missing?” Wells asks.

            “Until the afternoon after the hurricane clears,” I answer. “There will be units looking for him and it will not be wise to travel alone when they do.”

            When Clarke gets the knife out, Finn was regaining consciousness and when the knife leaves his body, something hits the ship and he rolls off the table. Charlotte screams.

            Miller runs down to check on the situation as Wells and Clarke both get him back on the table. He returns up the ladder just seconds later. I approach the table and pick up the vial.

            “Alright,” I say, popping the cork off the vial. “This might taste foul.”

            “I have had cough syrup before,” he says as Clarke begins to close the wound.

            I glare at him before tipping it to his mouth.

            “Will it work?” Clarke asks me with concern.

“It will,” I answer. “It works its way through the system in twenty minutes.”

“What are the side effects?” Raven asks.

“Drowsiness,” I answer when the vial is empty. “The poison will be gone from his body when he wakes up.” I set aside the empty vial. He shouldn’t need the sleeping herb.

            I try to sleep, though the wind rattling against the Dropship and Charlotte’s sniffling makes it difficult. For the latter, I move across the room to see if I could help. I don’t want to be a jerk.

            “Is anything okay?” I ask.

            “No,” Charlotte sniffs. “The storm is keeping me awake. I want to go home.”

            She’s afraid of the hurricane. I remember being fearful of a hurricane and storm too when I was her age. I remember my siblings and I crawling up next to our parents in our underground shelter of our horse during these episodes of storms and mother would sing to us. She’d sing the same song that Clarke hummed when she stabbed that boy in the neck after he was burned by the Acid Fog.

            I wrap my arm around her shoulders and sing:

_Hush-a-bye, don’t you cry. Go to sleep, my little baby._

_When you wake, you shall have all the pretty little horses._

            I don’t sing as good like my mother would but it’s still something. Something is better then nothing.

            It must have worked though, because she fell right asleep.

 

* * *

 

            “ _You have a brother of your own and if we went in and captured him like your friend did to Octavia you would have done the same_.”

            Bellamy’s words repeat to me as I slept in those few hours. How would he think I would do the same? He has known me for just a week. Why would he come to conclusion?

            I think about his words as those few hours slipped by, I discovered that he was correct. If the situation was in reverse; had it been Nigel that was captured by one of the Sky People, I would definitely go out and hunt down the person with two others mere hours after finding Nigel. Even during a hurricane I would do the same thing.

            Because I am that person. I would most definitely risk everything in compensation for my brother’s hypothetical captivity.

            When I wake up, it’s daybreak and I see Raven bent over Finn, hugging him. If he didn’t get stabbed, Raven and Clarke would have kicked him to the curb. But what do I know?

            Outside, people are repairing damage from the hurricane. I go over to examine the food store to see that it’s still standing. Thank you, Wells Jaha for making sure it was sturdy.

            “It was a genius idea to cover the building with the tarp,” Bellamy says, approaching me. “It protected the food from the rain.”

            “Bellamy, when you said that I would do the same thing had it been my brother, you were right,” I answer. “I would go out of my way to capture the person who captured him. However, that doesn’t mean that I am okay with you holding one of my own people prisoner in the top level of the Dropship.”

            “I know that you don’t approve of your friend’s captivity,” says Bellamy. “He knows you are with us and if we let him go, he will tell his friends that you are helping us. Considering what happened with Mbege, Diggs, and Roma yesterday, I don’t want to imagine what your clan does with traitors.”

            He shouldn’t imagine it. Traitors are considered scum. The filth under our shoes. If one betrays his clan in any matter, they are given the option to leave or die. If they refuse the former, they die via a Death of a Thousand Cuts before the higher authority that is present plunges the sword into them. Basically because it’s believed that a traitor should suffer from his actions before death.

            However, Lincoln would know my assignment. As for being a traitor, I’m a traitor to the Sky People, not to my people. Also, I will find a way to get Lincoln out of here.

            It would require help. Help from bad Jobi Nuts.


	9. Chapter Nine

“ _They established contact with their people last night during the hurricane, because one of them needed help in removing Lincoln’s knife from one of the Sky People’s rib cage_ ,” I say as pace in the parlor. “ _I don’t know if they will evolve to video communication but I will have no doubt since the person who came in that pod just recently fixed the radio communication_.”

            “ _And Lincoln is in captivity, you say_?” father asks.

            “ _Yes, unfortunately_ ,” I answer. “ _The leader of the group thinks we wouldn’t know it was them since we have multiple enemies in the area. As for getting him out of there, I have a plan that requires bad Jobi nuts. Hallucinations will distract them from what’s going on_.”

            “ _If they assume we wouldn’t know about his captivity, then we will make them think that_ ,” says father before looking at Anya. “ _The Commander would most likely have you take care of this mess. Your unit wouldn’t have a problem taking them on, I would presume_.”

            “ _You know I could never bite more than I can chew, Tristan_ ,” Anya says to him before approaching the door. “ _I will have my scouts comb the forest and since Lincoln is from TonDC, I will have Indra’s unit participate. If a Sky Person ventures alone they will regret it_.”

            She leaves the room, leaving me with father.

            “ _They still think that you are a civilian_?” father asks me.

            “ _I told them that my father is a woodsman_ ,” I answer, “ _so they come to that natural assumption, father_.”

            “ _Wise decision_ ,” he says, giving me a pat on the shoulder. “ _It’s dangerous for them to know that piece of information at this point. Make sure you keep that under the wraps, though I shouldn’t have to tell you that, Costia. This is no longer about determining whether they are trustworthy, since they burned down a village and that’s an act of war_.”

            “ _Yes, father_ ,” I reply before turning to the door and leaving the room. I was expecting father to keep me behind; to remind me that I shouldn’t grow sentimental and attached with the enemy but he doesn’t.

            Most likely because he figures that he could trust me not to, unlike my brother. And he might actually be wrong this time.

            Before exiting the village, I stop at the clothing cache to retrieve a oversized trench coat, a pair of boots, a piece of fur, a head piece, and boots. That way if anything escalates, I want Wells to accompany me without problems.

            If I’m doing that, then it must mean that I am quite sentimental. That father was wrong to not advise me to get attached.

            I exit the village with a knapsack and my sword. Might as well take it with me so I can kill Reapers without difficulty in case I encounter them. A arrow doesn’t do much good.

           

* * *

 

            I return to the camp with four jack rabbits, since I left under the guise of hunting. Looking at the fence, they are halfway done at putting it back up.

            “Speaking of the devil,” I hear Murphy say before he approaches me. “The prisoner refuses to eat and Bellamy just said that perhaps you can feed him since you’re from the same clan.”

            I look to see Monroe and someone I vaguely remember as Dax (who is very shifty in my opinion) prepare lunch before looking back to Murphy. “Did you pay attention to when your Earth Skills teacher taught you about skinning and preserving meat with sea salt?”

            “Well, yeah but I always made it look like I wasn’t listening because I enjoyed pissing him off,” answers Murphy with a smug smirk.

            “Here.” I force the hunting bag on his chest. “Skin the rabbits and preserve them.”

            I walk past him and enter the Dropship. Finn has been moved somewhere. The idea of Raven and Clarke babying him nauseates me.

            I climb up into the hatch. Miller and Wells are in the room with Lincoln and on the floor is a bowl of vegetables and cow meat.

            “Murphy says that Lincoln doesn’t want to eat,” I say, looking at Lincoln.

            “I tried feeding him but he spat it out,” answers Miller. “Then Wells tried and the results were the same.”

            “I thought it would work if I fed him since Miller was being rough about it,” says Wells. “I don’t blame him for not trusting us.”

            I pick up the bowl. “Let me take care of it,” I answer.

            Miller snorts. “You might have better luck since you know him,” he mutters.

            I scoop a spoonful of carrots. “It’s alright, Lincoln. Eat. I know you are hungry _._ ”

            Lincoln looks incredulous at the spoon before he opens his mouth and I put it the spoon in his mouth before ladling peas and cow meat.

            “I was right, she does have better luck feeding him,” says Miller.

            “That is because he knows her,” says Wells. “It would only make logical sense.”

            Lincoln doesn’t say anything as I spoon feed him, though I know he wants to. Most likely because he doesn’t want to arouse suspicion if we spoke in Trigedasleng in front of Wells and Miller.

            “Everything is going to be okay,” I try to assure him, though I’m giving him a clue. “Just trust me.”

            Lincoln’s face is unreadable though he nods like he caught on to what I was saying. An individual from the Woods Clan never leave their family, friends, and allies to die.

            I give him some water from my water container for him to wash down the meal before screwing the top back on. Taking the plate and spoon, I go down the ladder just as Raven shouts, “I did it! The video communication is fixed!”

            My feet have reached the first floor of the Dropship just as Wells climbs down the ladder. I go outside with the intention to clean the bowl and spoon when I encounter Bellamy.

            “Any luck feeding him?” Bellamy asks me.

            “Yes and Raven has completed working on the video communication,” I answer.  

            Bellamy mutters under his breath. “Okay. That’s all I need to know,” he says.

            I watch him disappear behind the curtain. He doesn’t seem happy about the video correspondence. He did want to the others up in space to think that they were dying down here when he removed the wristbands. It could only mean that he did something or attempted to do something and is trying to avoid the consequences.

            Running away from a fight or the consequences is considered an act of cowardice and dishonor. It’s considered honorable to turn oneself in for a crime and cowardly to run away from a battlefield. But I don’t know what happened so I can’t judge him.

            I wash the bowl and spoon with water from the makeshift well and I dry them with a torn piece of cloth before returning the utensils to the food store. Octavia enters the shack as I put the utensils away. She grumbles under her breath as she throws oranges into a bag.

            “You look like you want punch something,” I note.

            “Someone is observant,” she grumbles. “I tried to convince Bellamy that Lincoln had no intention to harm me. Yet, he won’t listen to me. You know Lincoln, right?”

            “I know that he swore to a life of pacifism after our war with Ice Nation, and he’s not one to attack someone if he doesn’t feel threatened,” I answer.

            Octavia grabs the lapels of my trench coat, her green eyes lit with desperation. “You have to do something,” she says. “I know that you don’t like that we’re holding one of your people prisoner. Your people will figure it out that we have him.”

            I place my hands on her shoulders. “I have a plan,” I whisper in her ear, “but it’s going to require the entire camp to be distracted by hallucinations.”

            “How?” she asks.

            “Early tomorrow morning, I’m going to lead some of your friends to hunting and scavenging expedition and I won’t tell them which the bad nuts are,” I answer.

            She nods like she understands and she lets go of me when Wells appears through the door frame. “Costia, my father wants to meet you,” he says.

            “Oh,” I say, crossing my arms. “Did Raven or Clarke say anything about a ‘helpful resident of the Earth’?”

            “Yes, but with different terms,” he replies. “And he asked Clarke if he could speak to you.”

            I bite my lip. The last thing I wanted was to talk directly with the Sky People’s official leadership. Also, they literally sent people down here with no supplies or a survival book.

            “Your people sent you and ninety-nine others down here without a survival book,” I say. I don’t say his ‘father’ because if they knew what I really was, they could say something similar: that my father raises me to die in battle, is what they would say.

            “My father and the Council know that we have had hostile encounters with your clan,” says Wells. “When they come down, they will think that you are hostile as well. If you talk with them, they will know you are on our side and that you have been helping us.”

            Technically I’m not on their side. I am a spy. Coming to think of it, what is the worse that could happen? At least I can get a idea on how they do things and what their plans are.

            “Very well,” I say. “I will speak with him.”

            I follow Wells from the food store to one of the tents that are pitched up. Inside Clarke is wearing a pair of headphones and sitting in front of the table where I see the back of the screen.

            “She’s here,” says Clarke as she removes the headphones. I approach the table and she stands up and hands them to me. “Do you need help putting these on?”

            I have seen pictures, so I have a good idea how to wear them. Without answering, I take the headphones and put them over my ears as I sit facing the screen, where I see an older dark-skinned man who could only be Wells’s father.

            “Greetings,” he says. “What is your name?”

            “Costia,” I answer. I don’t have a last name but I could use something that the leadership could identify me as. The first Nightbloods had last names before we had no use of surnames and I’m descended from Edward Walgrove. “Costia Walgrove.”

            “Pleasure to speak with you, Costia,” he says. “My name is Thelonious Jaha, the Chancellor of the Ark.”

            I nod. “Hello, Chancellor Jaha.”

            “Clarke Griffin mentioned that you were helping them getting started surviving down here,” he replies. “Do you know what we should do to survive the winter?”

            “Yes,” I answer. “You are going to have to listen very carefully and be sure to pass the information to the one who teaches Earth Skills.”

            “Actually, you’re going to speak with him over that topic,” says Chancellor Jaha. “His name is Charles Pike. He’s not available to speak with you at the moment and since we’re going to have the delinquents speak with their parents tomorrow, you’ll be able to speak with him in two days.”

            “I can wait,” I say. “No rush.”

            I can’t have a survival discussion interfere with my plan to have Lincoln escape. I have to make sure that they eat the bad Jobi nuts along with the good ones. Also, I have to leave for a few hours under the guise of hunting so that I wouldn’t be implicated in freeing Lincoln.

            As I would be the first suspect since I am from the same clan as him.

 

* * *

 

            “You thought to examine the knife while it was still lodged in me?” Finn asks me as I paste the red seaweed to a new bandage; he needed to have his bandage changed anyway.

            “It’s good to take precautions,” I answer. “Had I didn’t, you would have died. It was an idiot move, anyway. You don’t just pick something off of someone who is most likely just pretending to be unconscious.”

            “I noticed that he had a foghorn just like yours, so –”. He stops talking when I apply the bandage to the stitches. He clenches his teeth and lets out a gasp in pain.

            “Relax,” I say dryly. “It’s just the antibiotic killing any bacteria that might result in an infection. Don’t tell me that you never had antibiotics up there.”

            “We did,” he says. “In the form of alcohol wipes. Still hurt though.”

            _If you think getting an antibiotic applied to you is painful, try getting a knife to the calf during battle_ , I think as I roll my eyes.

            The entrance flaps are lifted and Raven comes in. “How is he, Madam Pomfrey?”

            “Fine,” I say. “His wound is okay, but one doesn’t know when it might have become infected.”

            “She has skilled fingers,” he says huskily.

            I turn to him, look at him straight in the eye, and say, “My fingers are skilled in many things. Just don’t cross me the wrong way.”

            That is me telling him to back off. What’s with this guy? He flirts around when he gets to the ground, nails Clarke in just less than a week, and when his girlfriend does come down, he still flirts with other girls. His love for Raven is most likely fickle.

            I grab my provisions bag and leave the tent when I run into Clarke. Brilliant.

            “You changed his bandage?” she asks me.

            “Yes and I put red seaweed on it so it will kill any bacteria there might be,” I answer, folding my arms.

            “Okay,” says Clarke. She moves to enter the tent but I block her.

            “No,” I answer. “Raven is in there.”

            “It’s not a crime for me to see him,” she says, her tone indicating that there was to be no further discussion about it.

            “Why? So, he can flaunt his preference to you in front of the girl who considers him her only family?” I ask. Not that I have seen it but I wouldn’t doubt it, since Finn is a giant prick.

            “It’s just that…never mind,” she says before walking past me. If she was trying to justify why Finn was stringing her and Raven along, I didn’t want to hear it. What is mind-boggling is that Raven seems like a bright individual and she is too good for a asshat like Finn.

            If I know one thing, I hear that Prince Roan of Ice Nation has a thing for intelligent women. Rumor has it that Queen Nia wants to marry him off to a girl named Ontari, who I consider to be a womanchild. Perhaps I can introduce them both sometime when Polis has its usual political/military summit this year. If the Sky People don’t make any more problems.

           

* * *

 

            “These are a lot of nuts,” Jasper says as he helps carry a crate of Jobi nuts as the sun just reaches above the horizon. “Are you sure we checked them right?”

            “Yes,” I answer. “You did as I said. There is no way I would let you eat bad nuts.”

            That’s a lie. Most of the nuts in there are contaminated with hallucinogenic fungi. Jobi nuts go bad right before harvest. They are only a summer specialty. Then again, Jasper seems to be the type of boy that likes putting something in his mouth if it gives him a drug trip or makes him sleep.

            “What happens if they go bad?” asks a baby-faced girl with long and sleek black hair. Or Fox, as she’s called.

            “You die,” I lie. It takes about ten to fifteen bad Jobi nuts for the hallucinations to kick in and the effects last for half a day before wearing off.

            “Okay,” says Monty. “Good thing we have you.”

            Unfortunately, I’m the reason why they will be losing their sanity for a few hours. But it’s to make sure Lincoln gets out of here without difficulty. There were no other options.

            The “delinquents” sort through the nuts, meat, and picked berries the entire morning as we eat pork and scrambled eggs for breakfast. Apparently the eggs are bigger then what they are used to eating. The radiation did mutate the chickens to bigger size.

            Clarke and Wells leave the communications tent, and if I heard Clarke correctly, Dax is the first person to talk to his parents. As Clarke looks for him, Wells approaches me, carrying a piece of paper.

            “Do you know how to get to an old emergency aid depot not far from here?” Wells asks me.

            He’s probably talking about those ruins above a underground weapons bunker that I have walked past time to time. The older members of my Ranger unit would joke how they are haunted and make a habit of scaring the younger members by jumping from them at nighttime.

            “Yeah, but the founding members of my clan pretty much cleared it of food,” I answer.

            “What about the weapons?” he asks.

            “We left them, since we denounced firearms in favor of spears, arrows, and swords,” I answer, as I head to the berry sorting table, as the occupants have left it for a breakfast break.

            “You can still make bullets without technology,” he answers, joining me. “They made bullets during the American Revolutionary War.”

            “The founding members saw fire arms as synonymous with nuclear warheads,” I answer. “As Johanna Brighton, our founder, said, it’s better to kill someone with one arrow and one piercing of a sword or spear then with ten bullets.”

            Wells pauses before saying, “That’s one way to see it.”

            Eight minutes pass and Bellamy and Clarke pass our sorting table; both of whom are carrying backpacks though Bellamy looks uncomfortable for some reason like he is eager to get out of here.

            “Do you have any plans for today?” he asks me.

            “I was planning on going hunting sometime later,” I say with a smile.

            “I thought we had enough food,” he asks incredulously.

            “I forgot to say that the average food store should hold food for three weeks,” I answer. “We only have two weeks’ worth of food. And with harvest coming up, we should get a head start.”

            “When does harvest start?” Wells asks with curiosity.

            “The second day of the tenth month,” I answer. “The first day is called Harvest Day. We eat a good dinner the night of Harvest Day and the next morning, is when we start gathering.”

            Harvest Day is a day for people to spend time with their families and eat a good dinner. It’s a day where one’s mind should be free of tension, as our only focus is to have enough food for the winter months. With the high volume of forest traffic, members from the unit I’m in hold checkpoints to verify whether you are from the clan or not, even if everyone knows everyone. Basically because there is a risk someone might cross into our border and hunt.

            It’s illegal to hunt in another clan’s territory, as it’s seen as stealing food.

            “If you’re going to hunt, do you care if I join you?” he asks me.

            I bite my lip. It could be risky, since the bombing of Hanover and the abduction of Lincoln are basically acts of war. However, it hasn’t escalated to the point where he might have to hide under the clothing I just snagged yesterday morning.

            In case anything does escalate, I’m going to start teaching him Trigedasleng, but when things escalate he’s going to pretend to be mute until he’s fluent. Civilians and warriors are bilingual but English has become our secondary language as our primary language sets us apart from the Mountain Men, that way they don’t know what we’re saying. Just understanding English is going to give him away. There is a Trigedasleng guide inside the library in my house. Father and mother would teach us the language when we were young and now that Nigel, Bristol, and I are fluent in it as well as Gonasleng, there is no need to have us refer to it.

            “Alright,” I say, giving him a smile. “I could use company anyway.”

            It would be amazing if I could find a two-headed deer and that this time I wouldn’t lose sight of the animal that I’m hunting.

            The berry crew returned from their breakfast break, allowing us to leave the table. From my peripheral vision, I see Octavia sit down and begin to attach fur to a jacket. With the tenth month upon us, it’s time to wear thicker garments and furs.

            “So, you know how to shoot a arrow?” I ask Wells as he picks up a quiver and a bow.

            “You know our Earth Skills teacher taught us archery for the purpose of hunting,” he says. “I doubt everyone paid attention.”

            “I guess that they thought it would be useless since you basically lived in a collection of tin cans put together like Legos in space,” I answer, strapping my quiver to my body.

            “That is one way to look at it,” says Wells as Murphy approaches us.

            “What are you two up to?” he asks me.

            “Costia wants to go hunting for food.” Wells offers him the third quiver. “You are more than welcome to join us.”

            Murphy rolls his eyes. “If you two want to go out and hunt, go. I don’t want to become the third wheel.”

            I stare at him as he walks away. The third wheel?

            “What is with him?” I ask him.

            “What do I know?” Wells asks with a shrug. “From my observation, he’s always this unpleasant.”

            Yeah but him saying using the term “third wheel” was puzzling the most. This wasn’t going to be some romantic escapade. It is just going to be a hunting expedition.

            The two of us walk through the gate lugging our quivers and carrying our bows.

            “How long does harvest last?” he asks me.

            “From the tenth month to the twelfth month of the year,” I answer. “We have to store away meat, fruit, and vegetables for the months of winter. That way we don’t starve to death.”

            “Usually in winter, people freeze to death before starving,” Wells says.

            “If you wear the right clothing and expose yourself to heat, you will avoid that,” I answer. I look around and say, “We are five miles away from the intersecting hunting paths. We have to walk quietly so that we don’t scare away the wildlife in the area.”

            “You are definitely going to get along with my Earth Skills teacher,” says Wells. “He likes it when people share enthusiasm for the subject he teaches.”

            “Something as important as Earth Skills should be met with enthusiasm,” I say in agreement. When we arrive to the intersecting hunting paths, I say, “We should head east. The trail leading west is in the vicinity of the warrior stronghold or Brighton Village if you like to call it. We want to avoid that area.”

            “Stronghold?” he asks.

            “Yeah,” I answer. “The warrior count is higher than the civilian count. It’s gate has never been penetrated for nearly two centuries.”

            “Is that where you live?” he asks.

            I bite my lip. It could be risky, as it could unravel my web of lies. However, there are civilians residing in the village but the warrior count is higher. So, what is the worst that can happen. “Yes, that is my village of residence.”

            I could say that my non-existent woodsman father is best friends with the General since childhood but that would be too easy to guess that the General is my father.

            “Perhaps you can go to your father and ask him if he could help us how to survive winter,” Wells says. “I am certain that he’s one of the natives that wouldn’t be hostile.”

            I swallow hard. I should have known this was coming. Asking if my father could provide aid as well. Truth is, my father is the last person he should ask, since father is seeing the Sky People as a potential enemy for the bombing of Hanover and the abduction of Lincoln. Father could actually wipe them out if it gets to the point where Anya can’t take care of it.

            I sigh and say, “I don’t know about that. Ever since the conflict with Ice Nation, civilians don’t trust anyone that doesn’t belong to this territory.”

            It’s the first time where I didn’t want to lie to him. That lie actually feels dirty in my mouth. I didn’t feel any guilt about lying to him then but that was most likely because I never knew him and was never attached to him then.

            He nods. “I understand. I read that war takes a toll on civilians.”

            They do but a mere civilian doesn’t have twelve kill marks on her left shoulder blade.

            We walk the trail in silence, careful that our footsteps don’t scare off any animal that might be near. All we can hear is the leaves rustling from the gentle sway of the breeze and the sound of birds chirping. It’s peaceful. Peaceful enough that one could get distracted by the tranquility.

            While the beautiful, white snow makes a deadly distraction in _Azgeda_ , in _Trigeda_ the deadly distraction is the tranquility of the forests. I guess it’s more dangerous because our warriors blend in so easily with the trees that one wouldn’t know there was any danger.

            Up ahead, we spot a deer grazing from the grass and from the angle the deer is at, it has two heads. Last time I sought out a deer like that, it was driven away because one of the sky people stepped on a twig. And I’m torn between shooting that deer myself to satisfy my ego or letting Wells shoot it himself.

            Why not the latter? He’s learned about the archery up in space. What is the point for him to possess a skill if he’s never going to use it?

            “You want to take this one since the last time you found a deer, my friend and her group scared it away,” he says to me.

            “No, this is your kill,” I whisper.

            He furrows his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

            “Yes,” I answer. “You have a skill. Use it.”

            He looks at me before taking out an arrow from his quiver and pulling it with the bowstring. His body is still with concentration; same with his eyes and his fingers. His eyes focused on his target.

            I watch as his arrow hits the target, bringing down the deer. We both approach the slain animal and I remove a tarp from the hollow opening of a tree. We both place the deer on the tarp and as we wrap the tarp around it, our hands touch.

            The blood rushes to my cheeks and I feel my pulse beginning to race. Out of curiosity, I take his hand and look at his palm. The skin on his palm is smooth yet one could tell the emergence of calluses. I could expect that my palms would feel rough.

            What am I doing here? I am sure I’m weirding him out by randomly examining his hand.

            I let go of his hand and we continue to wrap the deer. Looking at his face, it’s safe to say that I didn’t make him feel uncomfortable.

            I swallow. I don’t want to continue deceiving him like this.

            “Wells?” I ask .

            “Yes?” he asks, interested in what I want to say.

            I look around at our surroundings. This is a stupid idea. I shouldn’t be revealing my secret, especially out of the open when people could be walking around. What if one of my fellow rangers is around and they hear? They would go to my father and report my treachery to him.

            I don’t want to continue lying to Wells but if I reveal to him that I was a spy, my father would be forced to exile me as a disgraced warrior. Doing that would break his heart since I know that he doesn’t want to lose Nigel, Bristol, and I after losing mother and Salem.

            No, I can’t risk it.

            “That was an impressive shot you made,” I say instead with a nod.

            In another world, I could be given the freedom to be honest with him but given the circumstances, the odds are not in my favor.

 

* * *

 

            We both carry the deer with a tarp as we head back to the Sky Peoples’ camp at nightfall though my hunting bag has two foxes.

            “So, Unity Day has a pageant?” I ask him.

            “Twelve children walk in a circle carrying the flags of the nations that a respective station came from while someone tells the Unity Day story, without the Polaris detail,” he answers. “Not the story we tell at parties.”

            “Sometimes we have to acknowledge the gritty things,” I say. “It may be unpleasant but ignoring the bad things will not help anything. Sometimes it’s better to take the red pill of painful knowledge rather than take the blue pill of blissful ignorance.”

            “What you say is true, but unfortunately wanting to give people the red pill was what got Clarke’s father executed,” he says, until we spot a bundle lying a few feet from the fence; a few feet away from us.

            “What is that?” he asks, like he doesn’t want to know.

            I carefully go over to the bundle and upon observation, it’s stained with blood. I know what this is. During the war, our clan would send the corpse of someone from the          enemy to enemy territory as a message. I lift the fabric and see Dax’s lifeless eyes staring at me. His throat is sliced open and there is evidence of torture on his bare torso and his fingernails have been torn off.

            “What the hell?” Wells asks, coming closer to the bloody bundle. “Dax?”

            Up ahead, Clarke and Bellamy are carrying metallic bundles and both appear worn-out. When they see us, they run to see what happened.

            “What happened?” Clarke asks, before looking at Dax’s corpse.

            “Costia and I have just returned from our hunting trip when we saw this,” says Wells, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t know how they picked out Dax from the camp or how they got a hold of him but they are most likely sending us a message.”

            Did I say it out loud or has he read history books to fill his time? Most likely the latter because he’s smart.

            “Costia?” Bellamy asks me. “Do they torture people and send their bodies as a message?”

            “The warriors of my clan have done that during our war with Ice Nation,” I say in reply. “What most likely happened was that he went out alone and that’s how they got him.”

            “He’s gone!” I heard Miller shout from the camp. “The prisoner is gone!”

            Octavia got Lincoln out. Good.

            “You had nothing to do with this, did you?” Bellamy asks me, like he already knows the answer. That he wants me to confirm that I didn’t set Lincoln free.

            “Wells and I were hunting half the day and just back a minute ago,” I answer. “I wasn’t anywhere near the camp.”

            “She thought that we should get a head start on stocking for the winter,” says Wells.

            “Good,” says Bellamy. “The changing leaves indicate that October is upon us and the nights are getting cold.”

            I let Bellamy and Clarke go first, since Murphy might use Lincoln’s escape as a excuse to try to jump me again. Basically because I know that this time, people won’t rush to restrain Murphy in time when I try lodging a knife in his ribcage.    


	10. Chapter Ten

            “Costia, Pike is ready to talk to you,” Clarke says as she leaves the communications tent the morning after Lincoln’s escape. I set aside the meat cleaver and I see Wells pick up where I left off as I walk to the tent.

            As I lift up the flaps to enter the tent, Clarke’s eyes are slightly narrowed as if she might catch suspicious behavior from me. I scowl at her before letting the curtain fall behind me. She has been looking at me like that last night after finding Dax’s body. She is not an idiot, since I am the one who they think is helping them from eating the wrong thing on this radioactive planet. Like she knows that I had a hand in Lincoln’s escape.

            I am afraid that she might figure out that I’m a spy since she can catch things on. If she does, well she would be glad that the only thing that would keep her alive is that she is Wells’s best friend.

            I approach the table and put the earphones over my ears as I sit in front of the screen. The person on the screen is a middle-aged, dark-skinned man with a graying mustache. So, that’s the guy who jumped Murphy.

            “You are the Grounder that is helping the kids survive down there?” he asks.

            “Someone had to,” I answer. “Some of the Earth’s biology has been altered by the radiation for two centuries. One wrong mouthful could have slowly killed them.”

            “I wouldn’t doubt it if the radiation mutated the biology,” he answers, stroking his chin. “I wanted to go down there to help those kids survive but what matters is that someone is helping them.”

            That is merely a guise to see what the Sky People are going to do but from his tone, he was dedicated to teach them what they needed to know in order to survive. That he didn’t want them to die down here from starvation or by making a mistake.

            “From what I heard, your name is Charles Pike,” I say in reply.

            “You heard right,” he says with a nod. “Your name is Costia, is that right?”

            “Yes,” I answer.

            “Now, the Chancellor says that you know how to survive winter,” he says. “From what I read, Virginia winters can be rather frigid.”

            “Yes but it’s worse in the north,” I answer. “When are you coming down?”

            “In less than a week,” is his answer.

            “Do you have a map of the former United States with you?” I ask. “Because before we start I want to give a quick overview of the territories so you can get a idea of what’s there.”

            Simply because there is a chance that some of the Sky People might land in Ice Nation and if things are hostile between the “delinquents” and my clan, they need to know that this area isn’t the only place inhabited. That there are people far less forgiving and more warped.

            Well, the crown prince of Ice Nation is an outstanding exception but still.

 

* * *

 

            It’s been three days since Lincoln’s escape. The nights have become cold and the days nippy. We can now see our breaths when we talk, something that scared the “delinquents” at first. I don’t even want to see their reaction to snow when it comes down the first time. According to our almanac, we might expect the first snow at the beginning of November.

            Tomorrow marks the beginning of the tenth month and the second of October I plan on going back to the village to give new information to father as well as stay for the Harvest Day meal.

            I have had correspondence with Pike a couple hours each day, discussing plants, food preservation, ways to hunt, heating methods, and other essentials used to survive the _Trigeda_ winters.

            “Stay away from the blueberries,” I informed him. “The radiation has changed their chemical make up to where they are poisonous. They won’t kill you right away.”

            “Well, that’s going to be hard on people who like that fruit,” he says. “I am afraid that I might tell my students that the fruit they grew up eating is poisonous on Earth.”

            During our discussions, we both took extensive notes: mine listing the Sky People’s inevitable dietary changes and from his side, he made a few revisions; crossing out some lines and replacing them with new information. He’s got most of it right as some things are not compatible after two centuries.

            Finn is now able to move around without trouble for the most part. Looks like my medicinal herbs helped speed up his recovery. I would watch as he would chat with the others and snuggle with Raven but when Raven wasn’t around most of the time or in the few times she was around, he would talk to Clarke like a boy wanting to rekindle his romance

            I don’t know what was sickening: the fact that he was stringing them both along or that he was flaunting his preference for Clarke time to time, as I knew he would.

            “That boy is a complete tool,” I say to no one in particular as Murphy prepares the fire for dinner.

            “Are you referring to me or Spacewalker over there?” he asks dryly.

            “Spacewalker?” I ask.

            “He got put in lock-up for going on a unauthorized spacewalk,” says Wells as he adds leaves to the fire. “He wasted three months of oxygen because of that.”

            Finn, who grew up with resource restrictions, wasted oxygen for a moment of fun? That boy isn’t bright to begin with.

            “I wonder why a smart girl like Raven could fall for such an idiotic guy,” I say, shaking my head. “Not just an idiot, but also a douchebag.”

            I see Finn and Clarke going into the food store, with Raven staring at them as she goes into the Dropship. Probably going to keep her hands busy from punching something.

            “Anyways, I’m going to get the food from the shed,” says Murphy. “Might as well cockblock the Princess and the Spacewalker but don’t get too comfy before I get back.”

            He walks away as I scowl at him. There is nothing romantic between Wells and me. Why is it hard for him to conceive that idea?

            “I am going to check if Raven’s okay,” says Wells. “If you don’t mind.”

            “No,” I say, feeling the blood rush to my face. I watch his retreating figure before returning to my task.

            “Do you know where Octavia might have gone off to?” Bellamy asks me after approaching me.

            “I haven’t seen her for half of the day,” I answer as she slips through the gate, carrying white lilies. “Speaking of the devil”

            Bellamy looks at where my eyes are directed to and rushes to Octavia. “Where were you?”

            “Just picking lilies,” she says, waving the bundle in her hand.

            “Grounder warriors captured Dax, tortured him and sent his corpse back to us as a message,” Bellamy says with exasperation. “Do you want to be next?”

            “No one saw me, so I am okay,” says Octavia with exasperation as she walks away from Bellamy.

            Bellamy shakes his head and walks inside the Dropship. If I have any indication, Octavia is seeing Lincoln. It’s best that Bellamy doesn’t know anyway.

 

* * *

 

            Today is the first of October. Unity Day for the Sky People. For us, tomorrow is Harvest Day. Back at Brighton Village, I can imagine that people are preparing for the celebrations to mark the beginning of another bountiful harvest. Up in that space castle, well, one could see it on the video feed.

            “My friends, this is a historic Unity Day,” says Chancellor Jaha on the screen, which has been moved outside so everyone can hear his speech. I can hear him but I can’t watch the screen without leaving the bubbling pot Might as well introduce them to the Woods Clan’s fall specialty dish. “Every year, we mark the moment our ancestors of the twelve stations joined to form the Ark, but this is the last time while we do so aboard her. Next year…on the ground.”

            Clapping is heard from the Ark.

            “After we did all the work,” says Miller. “Will someone shut him up?”

            “You shut up, Miller,” Raven replies. “No one is forcing you to watch.”

            I look to see Finn leaving the Dropship; standing by Clarke at the ramp. Raven looks at them before going over to where I’m cooking hazelnut soup. “What are you making?”

            “Hazelnut soup,” I answer. “It’s our fall specialty.”

            “Reminds me of Tangled,” she says.

            “What?” I ask, confused by what she meant by that.

            “Oh, it’s a Disney adaptation of the tale of Rapunzel,” answers Raven. “You are probably more familiar with the original fairy tales by the Grimm Brothers.”

            I know who Disney was but I have never seen a moving picture. Down here, our forms of entertainment are reading and watching non-lethal spars.

            From a distance, I hear Jasper – who’s wearing his goggles – yell before coming out of a steaming tent with a metal canister. “Yeah! Monty strikes again! Hey! Call this batch Unity Juice! Who’s thirsty?”

            Most of them come to Jasper as if he were Father Christmas bestowing them gifts. From the sound of it it’s probably Monty’s moonshine.

            Wells leaves the crowd and approaches my workstation.

            “Care if I sample what you are making?” he asks with curiosity.

            I smile as I pick up a spoon. “No. It’s hot, so be careful.”

            I hand him the spoon and he carefully ladles some from the pot before putting it to his mouth. I watch his face, seeing his eyes widen but his nose isn’t wrinkled in disgust.

            “It’s good,” he says. “Very good.”

            I could tell him it’s has turkey giblets but I don’t want to gross him out. However, Wells is one that’s not judgmental.

            “Costia, can I ask you something?” he asks.

            “Anything,” I say.

            He opens his mouth but Jasper approaches us before he could speak. “Costia, had you ever had moonshine before?”

            “No, but I had wine,” I answer.

            Jasper snorts. “Wine is just fermented grape juice. This is the real stuff.”

            Moonshine along with Rum and Whiskey are the hard stuff. Just one shot could get someone sauced.

            Besides, I’m more interested in hearing what Wells wants to say then sampling Monty’s moonshine. And I can’t have Murphy watch the soup without him burning it in retaliation for making him do tasks. “Clarke, watch the soup for a moment!”

            Wells and I walk away from Jasper and we head towards the food store which is pretty much vacant at the moment.

            “What is that you wanted to ask me, Wells?” I ask him thoughtfully as I close the door behind us.

            He sighs as he takes a seat on a empty crate. “I have been thinking this over for the past few days and I think it’s the perfect day to tell you.”

            So, is he going to profess his undying love? It can’t be as he doesn’t have that expression that would indicate that he would.

            “In two and a half days, the first exodus ship from the Ark and they are sending the Guard as reinforcements due to the attacks,” says Wells.

            “The Guard?” I ask, scratching my head.

            “The people that enforce our laws,” says Wells. “My father means well but it’s just going to make things worse. There is an alternative to this plan and even he should know that.”

            “An alternative,” I repeat. I know where he’s getting at. “You want a truce?”

            “Yes,” he answers. “I know that your clan has been at war and they don’t want another one after five years of peacetime.”

            He’s right because since the ceasefire, things were less stressful. One didn’t have to worry about getting killed in battle the next day. Our single worry was narrowed down to being snatched by Reapers. Though –

            “I like your offer but you have to establish trust with my clan before we can have real peace,” I answer. “Trust is a major factor if we want a stable relationship.”

            “One shouldn’t expect results right away,” he points out. “It would be unrealistic. We should talk over any misunderstandings we have first before talking about the terms.”

            That sounds about right, because people see two different things when something happens. Perspective does matter. Besides, what harm could a truce do? Combined with harvest and their warriors coming down, it’s needed. They don’t know the area well enough that they will end up mistaking civilians for warriors.

            On a personal note, this could mean that I will stop lying to him. That I could be honest with him.

            “Okay,” I say. “I will go to my village a little while later and talk about it with the clan’s representative. Her name is Anya. She’ll be able to sort things out with you.”

            The Woods Clan is run by Village Councils, so we don’t have a single leader that answers to Lexa. However, when things affect the clan as a whole or someone wants a truce, Anya is our representative. Our mouthpiece. Clan ambassadors/representatives are picked by the Commander to avoid biased opinions.

            It didn’t surprise me that Lexa chose Anya since she mentored Lexa to prepare her for the Conclave.

            “Since we’re not the only ones in the area, we both should bring back up in case the meeting gets compromised by a third party,” he says.

            Excellent. That’s a good plan, because forbidding weapons would give my people the idea that it’s a trap. Also, when you tell them not to do something, they will for sure do it. It’s Psychology.

            And when it comes to speaking with Anya, I don’t want either Bellamy or Clarke, basically because they both have negative bias about my clan and it would only fuel Clarke’s arrogance. I can’t make her think that she can do anything and everything without difficulty. I especially don’t want Clarke because I know that she would say the wrong thing. Wells would be better since he has a open mind about my clan. He’s very smart. I have no doubt that he’ll be good at diplomacy as well.

            “Would you mind talking with Anya?” I ask him.

            He shrugs. “I see why not. Bellamy and Clarke are both good but Bellamy’s hot tempered when he is in a disagreeable situation. Clarke’s my best friend but I don’t want her to say the wrong thing. I will talk to her.”

            I launch myself at him and wrap my arms around him. “Thank you! Thank you!”

            “Anytime,” he says, patting my back.

            The door opens and we separate to see Murphy watching us; leaning against the doorjamb.

            “Okay, lovebirds,” says Murphy. “Go back outside. I don’t think you would want to be unable to have a serving of that hazelnut soup.”

            I roll my eyes as we follow him outside. Everyone is lining up for a serving of hazelnut soup. Bellamy and Clarke ladle the soup into bowls and hand them to the first person in line. Finn is nowhere in sight. Good riddance, I say, because I don’t know if I could stomach him making heart eyes at Clarke with Raven still around. That boy nauseates me to no end.

            The line moves very quickly but when Wells and I get to the table and pot, he whispers something to Clarke and Bellamy. Clarke tilts her head and narrows her eyes; Bellamy just shakes his head.

            Wells most likely told them the plan for the truce and they are rather skeptical. I could imagine that Anya will be skeptical as well when I offer up the idea.

           

* * *

 

            “A truce? With the Grounders?” Clarke asks as she, Bellamy, Wells, and I sit in Bellamy’s tent.

            “Woods Clan,” Wells corrects. “There is more than one clan, so I wouldn’t put them under one umbrella. Second, we have one in here as we speak.”

            “A civilian,” says Bellamy. He looks at me. “You lived here all your life and you most likely have a vast idea of what the warriors from your clan are capable of. You could have told Wells that this is a bad idea.”

            “I was open to the idea because this and a few other clans had undergone almost two centuries of war with another clan and for five years now, everything has been better,” I say. “It might not look like it to you guys but my clan doesn’t want to be locked in another bloody war.”

            Clarke and Bellamy exchange glances, still skeptical.

            “Guys, the first exodus ship comes down in two and a half days,” says Wells. “The fact that the harvest season for the Woods Clan starts tomorrow doesn’t help matters considering that the first people aside from us will be Guardsmen. I saw what the warriors did but the clan is not solely composed of warriors. The Woods Clan also has farmers, hunters, healers, post traders, and craftsman. Average civilians who have nothing to do with what has been going on in the last two weeks. The Guards could confuse civilians for warriors and I know that you don’t want civilian blood on your hands.”

            They both don’t say anything. Clarke bites her lip and Bellamy lowers his head.

            “What have you decided?” Clarke asks us.

            “Since we’re not the only Nuclear Apocalypse surviving factions here, both of us should have back up in case a third party compromises the meeting,” answers Wells. “Like the Reapers.”

            “Or the Mountain Men,” I add. “If you see anyone in hazmat gear, I wouldn’t go near them.”

            Bellamy incredulously raises his eyebrow. “Your intentions are good but the presence of weapons is going to be invitation for an open attack,” he says.

            “If the requirement was for both groups to not bring any weapons when both groups have distrust for each other, how would you react?” I ask, arching my left eyebrow.

            Their silence is an answer enough.

            “When someone is told not to do something, that person is going to do that anyway,” I answer. “It’s psychology.”

            “Point taken,” says Bellamy. “Do you have a location in mind?”

            Clan disputes are usually settled at the Abraham Lincoln statue close to TonDC but it would take a day to get there by walking. There is another location that is much closer. Just a three hour walk.

            “There is a bridge not far from here,” I say. “I will lead you there.”

            Bellamy looks at Clarke. “Are you up for negotiating a truce?”

            He wants Clarke to speak with Anya? Clarke could mess this up by simply saying the wrong thing.

            “No, I’ll let Wells speak with the clan representative,” says Clarke. “This seems to be his area of expertise.”

            Well, at least she’s not that self-centered to the point where she thinks she’s good at everything.

 

* * *

 

Before nightfall, I mount on Athena to inform Anya about this development.

            I’m going to be here a day early but I might as well give them some new information while I’m there.

            The sun has almost completely gone under the horizon when I arrive back at the village. From the looks of it, everyone is most likely at dinner since I see no activity there elsewhere.

            “ _You are a day early_ ,” Beaufort says coolly as my feet reach the ground. “ _Harvest Day isn’t until tomorrow_.”

            “ _Is Anya available?_ ” I ask him without a beat.

            “ _She’s at your house speaking with the Commander and your father_ ,” he answers.

            Lexa is here. She knows what’s going on and is most likely here to directly address the problem. If Lexa is here, Titus is here as well. He has to accompany her when she travels in case something was to happen. Only the Flamekeeper knows how to extract the Spirit of the Commander.

            “ _Very well_ ,” I say, walking down the passageway that leads to the street where my house is located. The sight of Gustus and Wight was evident enough of Lexa’s presence. I ascend the steps and say with a nod, “ _Gustus, Wight_.”

            Gustus leaves his area and disappears behind the double doors. Most likely to announce my arrival. It’s shameful to walk in on important clan officials unannounced. I go in a few seconds after him and when walking the corridor, I could hear conversation coming from the dining room. Either I arrived in the middle of dinner or dessert has started.

            “ _She’s here a day early_ ,” I hear Anya say with concern.

            “ _It could be because she received information she didn’t want to wait to give_ ,” father theorizes.

            “ _That’s my fear_ ,” Anya replies.

            Father, Anya, and Lexa file out of the dining room, with varying expressions of eagerness and concern. I wish I could evaporate on the spot when I look at Lexa’s emerald eyes but the hunger isn’t as intense.

            “ _I apologize for interrupting dinner_ ,” I say, shifting my legs.

            “ _There is no need to apologize, especially if it’s something that demands our immediate attention_ ,” says father, like my apology is not necessary. He puts his hand on my back and guides me to his office. Knowing Titus, he’s most likely following us in case Lexa needs his advice.

            Like his advice is worth listening.

            “ _What has happened that would force you to arrive a day early_?” Lexa asks as Titus closes the door behind us.

            I take a deep breath. “ _I was approached by one of the Sky People with an offer for a truce_.”

            “ _A truce?_ ” Father asks. “ _It would be too late I reckon_.”

            “ _They want a truce after bombing out a village and capturing Lincoln?” Anya asks. “After the damage they caused_?”

            “ _They are ignorant about the village_ ,” I answer. “ _I was focused on Lincoln getting out that it didn’t cross my mind to even tell them_.”

            “ _Even if they were ignorant of the fact that Hanover Village burned to the ground, I find it alarming that they would want a truce_ ,” says Titus. He looks at Lexa. “ _I advised you to give Tristan the permission to assemble his troops but your refusal resulted in the lost lives of twenty_.”

            “ _I didn’t want to attack the newcomers without being sure_ ,” Lexa argues. “ _A meaningless war results in the deaths of hundreds if not thousands_.”

            “ _I understand your reluctance but if we don’t take the offer, the situation will get worse_ ,” I point out. “ _In two and a half days, the first dropship will come and they will be mostly soldiers. People who enforce the laws up in their Lego Space Castle_.”

            Anya furrows her eyebrow and looks at Lexa before exchanging a glance with father.

            “ _They will be turning a bad situation into a dire calamity by sending down warriors_ ,” says Anya. “ _It could result in the deaths of civilians who have nothing to do with the conflict_.”

            “ _That is a result of living outside the planet_ ,” says father. “ _They are detached from everything that they never see the whole picture_.”

            “ _If we sort things out before the deadline, they will see that sending down their warriors was meaningless_ ,” I say. “ _And trust me, father, Anya, I know that deep down that you don’t want this war_.”

            Father gives a slow nod of his head while Anya taps her fingers on her arm in thought. “ _Were you able to arrange the place of meeting?_ ”

            “ _The bridge_ ,” I answer. “ _And you will be speaking with a boy named Wells, the person who approached me with the offer_.”

            I don’t tell them that his father is the leader of the Sky People, as father would use that information to keep Wells prisoner if things were to go badly.

            “ _Any requirements for the meeting?_ ” Anya asks.

            “ _Bring back up in case we get compromised by the Mountain Men_ ,” I answer.

            Anya nods. “ _I commemorate his acquired knowledge of the territory and the threats we face,_ ” she answers. “ _I’ll assemble my archers and my riders in two hours_.”

            “ _Commander, she was your mentor_ ,” Titus says to Lexa. “ _Talk her out of this_.”

            “ _I trust Anya’s judgment, Titus_ ,” Lexa replies, her green eyes hard and her facial expression stoic.

            The office door opens and Gustus arrives. “ _Lincoln from TonDC wishes to have a audience with Anya_.”

            “ _Send him in_ ,” says Lexa.

“ _Indra has informed me that Lincoln wishes for no retaliation for the invaders imprisoning him_ ,” says Anya, looking troubled. “ _She respects his wishes but doesn’t know for how long_.”

Lincoln comes into the room. His shoulders hunched as he wipes his hands. Then his eyes turn to me.

“ _What are you doing here, Costia?_ ” he asks. “ _I thought you were back at their camp_.”

“ _I was but Wells has offered me to arrange a truce_ ,” I say.

Lincoln tilts his head and furrows his eyebrow in confusion. “ _Truth be told, Finn just approached me with the same offer_.”


	11. Chapter Eleven

It’s like someone has removed all understanding and comprehension from my brain. Finn? Out of all people, Lincoln took up the offer of a truce from Finn?

            “ _Oh, you accepted the word of a smarmy bastard who doesn’t know when to keep it in his pants when he sees a girl other than his girlfriend?_ ” I demand.

            “ _What’s the meaning of this?_ ” father demands, his eyes rolling.

            “ _This is most likely their strategy_ ,” says Titus. “ _To confuse us before they could attack without warning_.”

            “ _That idiot Sky Boy was gone when Wells approached me_ ,” I argued. “ _So, he didn’t know about the idea of a truce!”_

            “ _Calm down!_ ” Lexa commands, lifting her hand for silence. She turns to Lincoln. “ _What were the arrangements this boy gave you?_ ”

            Lincoln turns to me. “ _Costia should go first since she arrived here before I did_.”

            I clear my throat. “ _That the meeting place is the bridge, that Wells should engage in the peace talks with Anya, and that both groups were to bring back up in case the meeting was comprised by a third party_.”

            “ _What we decided, the location was the same_ ,” says Lincoln. “ _Only the differences were that a girl named Clarke was going to discuss the truce and that there were to be no weapons_.”

            I purse my lips. Clarke? Self-centered Princess Clarke? Is Finn that shortsighted that he never really considered that Wells was the proper candidate and instead decided on a girl who sees my clan through a negative prism? And what an idiot for not wanting armed back up, since he’s seen the aftermath of a Reaper attack.

            “ _I don’t have to know these boys by meeting them from little I heard_ ,” father says. “ _The boy that consulted with Costia is smart. The boy you consulted is a certified imbecile_.”

            Certified imbecile describes Finn. However, given that Anya was given two different stories sets a roadblock.

            Like she read my mind, Anya say, “ _We will find a way around this. I will take from both. I will assemble my archers and riders and when they meet us, I will speak with this Clarke_.”

            I wanted to roll my eyes but I refrain from doing so. Everything is going to go badly.

            “ _Go back to their camp and inform them of the plans_ ,” father says.

            I nod and push the door open. Thanks to Finn, everything will mess up badly. It will be all on him if the meeting takes a bad turn and everything erupts.

 

* * *

 

            When I return back, the delinquents were still having their Unity Day celebrations. I look around as I set my feet on the ground, and away from the center of the festivities, I see Clarke and Finn; with Clarke looking in obvious duress.

            Probably because a meeting was already planned and that Finn arranged one without her consent and knowledge. When did Finn respect people’s judgments anyway?

            “Hey, asshole!” I shout, darting towards them with my fists balled.

            They both look at me. “Did you get the meeting set up?” Clarke asks.

            “She met it with the same hesitation that you and Bellamy approached it with but she agrees to the meeting,” I answer, before looking at Finn. “Only this dumbass complicated it that it caused Anya to work over it and use elements of both.”

            “Well, great,” says Finn with a hopeful smile. “What did she say?”

            I roll my eyes and sigh. This boy is going to be so disappointed.

            “For one, both groups should bring back up,” I say before turning to Clarke, “and two, she will be speaking with you.”

            Clarke pauses while running her hands through her hair. “Alright then,” she says after composing herself. “I’ll give Bellamy and Wells a update.”

            We walk away but Finn follows us. “You can’t be serious. There is a reason why I didn’t want weapons,” he says.

            “We are not the only people out here,” I snap. “Do you really want the meeting to be compromised by either the Mountain Men or the Reapers?”

            “She’s right,” says Clarke. “The last thing we need is to have a third party ruin it. Also, the backup was Wells’s idea.”

            “I know he’s your best friend but just trust me,” Finn pleads.

            Clarke snorts. “The difference is that Wells actually shared the plan with Bellamy and me and consulted us about it before Costia left to offer the agreement, whereas you went behind my back and did it whether I liked the terms or not.”

            I chuckle at the taken-aback expression on Finn’s face. Someone needs ice for that serious burn.

            Bellamy and Wells are at the communications tent with Raven who’s working on bullets and gunpowder.

            “Were you able to set up the meeting?” Wells asks me as soon as he sees me.

            “Yeah, but because of Finn, there were some complications,” I answer. “There is a change of plans.” I turn to Wells. “Unfortunately, you will not be discussing the truce. Clarke will.”

            “I have no reservations against that,” says Bellamy.

            “Okay, not what we planned but doable,” says Wells.

            He doesn’t seem too upset. Most likely because he plans on helping Clarke what words to say to Anya. He would know what words to say and he’ll have his best friend rehearse them.

            “How long will you have to get back up ready?” I ask, folding my arms. “Anya is assembling her archers and riders as we speak.”

            “In a few,” says Bellamy. “Why would she bring archers? We will be on ground level.”

            “In case a third party is spotted and they have to send a signal,” I say. “I plan on doing that myself as well.”

            “Nothing against that,” says Bellamy with a nod. He turns to Clarke, “Why don’t you get started for departure. I will depart with Raven, Jasper, and Murphy after you.”

            So that’s his backup team. I would choose Miller over Murphy but at least I won’t be near him to hear from him about how Wells and I have it bad.

            We leave the tent and Wells, Clarke, and I put bags of dried fruit in our packs. And Finn approaches us.

            For the life of me, he has to be kidding me.

            “Getting ready for departure?” he asks.

            “Yes,” says Clarke.

            “You know, I can come with you guys,” he says. “To make sure this goes well.”

            I glare at him as I close my provisions bag. “No, you stay here with Miller to watch after camp,” I say abrasively. “You messed up this meeting up with your inherent stupidity and you’ll only mess things up even further by coming.”

            I smirk at his taken aback expression and he looks to Clarke for assistance. “You want me to come, right?”

            Clarke tilts her head for a moment before turning to him. “She is right. We need more than one person to keep an eye on things here.”

            Finn would guilt her about not taking him later on but what could we have done? It’s best not to risk taking him but I don’t want him near Clarke with Raven around. In fact, I don’t want Finn around Raven. She needs someone better then him, like Bellamy.

            Bellamy would be a much better choice for her.

            “Did you want him to not come because you thought he would mess up the peace talks or because of Raven?” Wells asks as we depart from camp.

            “Both,” I say. “It’s not helping matters since he’s been flaunting his preference to Clarke when Raven is in full view sometimes.”

            “He’s not flaunting his preference to me,” Clarke says. “He just likes to make conversation.”

            “Then how do you explain the wistful looks he makes and how you would move away his hand sometimes?” I ask, raising a eyebrow.

            Clarke doesn’t say anything. Probably because she doesn’t know what to say.

            As we walk through the woods, Wells gives Clarke’s tips on what to say when she meets Anya.

            “When you see her, say _I think we have got off on the wrong foot. Talk about what happened first and we’ll clear everything up from there_ ,” he says. “If you just say that you want to have peace that will sound fickle.”

            “Why?” Clarke asks. “From what Costia said, the representative accepted the meeting after hesitating.”

            “When something happens, people will have a different interpretation of the event,” answers Wells. “Given that Anya hesitated, that means that whatever we did was a unintentional declaration of war.”

            “But we didn’t start anything,” Clarke insists. “Technically, they started it when Jasper was speared.”

            “That was when our Commander prohibited any action against you,” I clarify. “The men that did it got hung for disobeying that order but that was before the flares and Lincoln’s kidnapping.”

            “Exactly,” says Wells. “When those rangers chased us when we were looking for Octavia, I had a feeling that we must have did something otherwise they wouldn’t have pursued us like they did. When you look at it, we were the ones that started it, not them.”

            Clarke sighs but refrains from answering.

            “Costia, I don’t know if you noticed that a few hours ago, we lost contact with the Ark towards the end of the pageant,” Wells says.

            My mind was so focused on the truce that I was practically oblivious to most things but I do vaguely remember Raven complaining of a lost signal. “I vaguely remember it. Why?”

            “I think something is going terribly wrong up there,” says Wells after a brief pause. “My gut is telling me something is wrong.”

            “I’m sure they will fix the communication up there and we’ll be connected to the Ark tomorrow,” says Clarke, like she’s trying to reassure him.

            “Raven was near the video communication at the time and when it got cut off, it was sudden, like a explosive went off,” he says. “Considering that not everyone likes my father, it doesn’t help matters any.”

            I remember how Wells was initially treated by his peers when I first met him and I don’t doubt that the adults up there felt the same way about his father. One would think that a mutiny was bound to happen up in their Lego Space Castle.

            I put my hand on his shoulder. “If your gut is telling you something is wrong, go by it. Hopefully, your father is okay.”

            “Thank you, Costia,” he says. “They always say to trust your gut feeling.”

            By the time we are close to our destination, the sun has just risen above the horizon and from a distance, I spot Octavia. Like she’s been waiting for them.

            “Okay,” I say. “They might be close by now. I’m going to up in the trees to monitor the situation and if I see something suspicious, I’ll give a signal.”

            “What should we expect?” asks Clarke.

            “If Lincoln catches a arrow, that would mean that a third party has been spotted,” I say. “That’s what you should expect.”

            “That’s all I needed to know,” says Clarke with a nod before departing to the bridge.

            “Costia,” Wells says as he touches my arm, “be careful.”

            “I will,” I reply before receiving a hug from him. I nuzzle my nose in his shoulder, my arms keeping him to me in a vice grip, but eventually, I let go.

            We both nod to each other before I disappear into the trees at the other side of the bridge. My fingers rely on the crevices before I get to the branches; where I quickly place each foot and hand on one as to avoid breaking under my feet or in my hand.

            When I get to the highest point, I tie a suspension rope to my waist to avoid falling to my death. I take out my collapsible telescope from my provisions bag and look through it. I could see Lincoln running from the other end and I look over to see some movement from the west. Most likely the Sky People’s back up team.

            I look back to the bridge to see Lincoln and Octavia separate from a hug and shortly afterwards I see the riders and it’s not long before Anya arrives with her copper-colored thoroughbred horse, Helios.

            I notice that Lincoln blocks Wells from moving. Probably because Anya would prefer to speak to Clarke alone. That wouldn’t surprise me.

            I focus my telescope on various parts of the area as a third party may come in the vicinity of the meeting though for a few seconds I would focus on the bridge. The third time I focused on it was when I saw Clarke offering her hand only to have Anya silently refuse to. I would too not take Clarke’s hand if I was in her position.

            I hadn’t paid much attention to the bridge as my primary focus was the vicinity around it. It might have been ten minutes later when I could see movement from below. I couldn’t it see well considering that I was high up but the movement of the bushes was very obvious.

            What makes it more dangerous is that I don’t know whether they were the Reapers transporting prisoners to the Mountain or if it was the Mountain Men themselves. Both are horrifying but the latter was much more horrifying because they have more clear and coherent thoughts.

            I take out my arrow and pull it along the bowstring, eyeing Lincoln. Careful to aim close to him and not at him so he could catch the arrow.

            My fingers are ready to release the arrow –

            “Clarke, Run!” I hear Jasper shout. “ _Run!_ ”

            The sound of gunshots fills the air. On the bridge, the small dot that is Anya lunge at Clarke but she’s forced to run the other direction due to something. Then, I see arrows coming from the trees and I thought I see her riders shoot arrows.

            Chaos, caused by a domino effect. What the ever living heck?

            I grab the suspension rope and lower myself from tree, my heart pounding in my chest and a knot tied in my stomach. My feet touch the ground and I untie the rope from my waist before running towards the bridge; the blood pounding in my ears.

            “What happened?” I demand.

            Wells grabs my wrist. “We have to go!” he shouts, the urgency in his voice obvious and he drags me out of there.

            The four of us run through the forest, our feet pounding from beneath us and we could hear each other’s frantic breathing. We collide with hanging branches, step on twigs, and one of us nearly trips.

            Technically, none of the members of my group are in danger in getting captured since people would be at the villages preparing for tonight’s Harvest Day celebrations. However, there might be stragglers who would see one fall behind and they would capture that person.

            I don’t know how long we have running but by the time we see the fence it’s late morning. Everyone stops for a deep breath. Through my panting, I glare at Jasper.

            “What happened?” Clarke demands, looking at me for an explanation.

            “I saw some rustling in the bushes several feet below me and I was about to send the signal when he started shooting,” I say, glaring at Jasper once more.

            “I saw him aiming at Clarke!” Jasper insists.

            I approach him and grab his jacket labels. “He was trying to give Anya a signal as well for he would have seen it too. We don’t attack just for the fun of it.”

            “Back off,” says Bellamy, putting his hand on my shoulder. “It’s my fault. I should have told him that their back up would be in the trees. I tried to stop him.”

            “Whoever the third party was, the gunfire most likely scared them off,” says Raven.

            “It’s not good when you look at it,” says Wells. “Since Jasper misinterpreted the situation and fired the first shot, we just committed another declaration of war.”

            Octavia turns to Jasper, her green eyes sending him daggers. “You ruined everything,” she says before walking to the gate.

            “I was just trying to protect you,” he says following her.

            Wells turns to Clarke and Bellamy, wringing his hands. “This clan has been at war with another clan for nearly two centuries and this was their fifth year of peacetime when we landed. As I said, they are going to see the incident at the bridge as an act of war and they are not the forgiving type. They will retaliate.”

            Wells is correct on that. My clan is not entirely forgiving. We have been hardened from years of war; some more hardened then others depending how long they have participated.

            Evidently, they might as well arm up because they don’t know what’s coming from my clan.

            Wells walks to the gate and I follow him.

            “Best Harvest Day ever,” I mutter to myself. We shouldn’t be preparing for war today. Had it not been for Jasper’s recklessness, this would have been our first Harvest Day during peacetime.

            “Where is Murphy?” I hear Raven ask as I walk through the gate.

            “I thought he was with us when we were running from the sight of the skirmish,” I hear Bellamy answer.

            If Murphy was snatched while running, Anya’s unit is most likely taking him to the village where he’ll be locked in the prison cabin. From what I hear, Reed doesn’t have difficulty torturing information out of people. He would be likened for a sadist.

            In the camp, they are gathering around eating breakfast. Finn is talking to Jasper and I roll my eyes.

            “Truth be told, things actually got worse without the guard coming down,” Wells says to me. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have approached you with the offer.”

            “This is not your fault, Wells, I say, looking at him in the eye. “The skirmish at the bridge wouldn’t have had happened if Jasper didn’t act out of impulse. Or it wouldn’t have had happened at all if he wasn’t present.”

            Wells nods, though I doubt my assurance helped. “We’re going to war, are we?”

            I don’t want to answer him. These kids don’t know what they are in for. My clan has over three thousand people and of that number our warrior count is two thousand and fifty and growing while the rest are farmers, healers, butchers, merchants, blacksmiths, and craftsmen. The whole lot won’t go after them but an army of three hundred will wipe them out.

            Anya’s going tobe massing up against them first. If she can’t then father will take care of the problem and for the love of me I hope it doesn’t get to that point. Being a part of his unit eleven years and when I fought for six years, I know that armies were able to wipe out a enemy encampment very quickly under his command.

            I swallow. “Yes.”

            And I’m going to make sure that Wells doesn’t get killed. His life is my first priority.

            Great, I’m really emotionally attached to him.

           

           


	12. Chapter Twelve

            About two hours after the skirmish at the bridge, Raven has me go the bunker to see if I could find radios and walkie talkies. It’s so that she wouldn’t risk an arrow or spear thrown at her. I found three radios and twelve walkies in a bin under the trundle bed. I loaded them into my drawstring bag and took them to camp.

            “Do they work?” Raven asks as I give them to her in the communications tent.

            “The radios produce static, so they work and two of the twelve walkies are faulty,” I answer.

            “Great,” she says. “We could use the radios to fix the faulty walkies.”

            “So, still radio silence from the Ark?” I ask.

            “Nothing,” she answers. “What was strange about it, it was as if an explosion cut off the radio signal. It was sudden.”

            “That is what Wells said,” I answer.

            Raven smiles. “You two seem inseparable. One would think that you two grew up with each other.”

            “We’re not that close,” I answer, feeling the blood reach my cheeks. “We just agree about how to survive on this radioactive planet. That’s all.”

            “Stop deceiving yourself,” says Raven. “It’s pretty obvious that you two stick like Velco.”

            “Whatever, Raven,” I mutter before leaving the tent. First Murphy and now Raven. What’s it with people thinking that Wells and I have something special? We don’t.

            I see Bellamy talking to Wells and after the two part ways, Bellamy strides towards me. something has been preoccupying him.

            “You might want to be careful when you venture out of the camp considering the skirmish at the bridge,” he says.

            “Afraid that my clan will take a shot at me?” I demand, raising my eyebrow.

            “They now know that you are helping us,” Bellamy replies. “We are the enemy and they most likely see you as a traitor. I doubt your father would have the power to stop them from exacting punishment.”

            Technically, Bellamy is wrong. Only a Village Council (Indra when it comes to TonDC) can determine the fate of a civilian. Wrong because since I’m not a civilian and if a warrior does something treacherous, my father and Anya (or depending on which higher up is present) are responsible for disciplining and punishing that person accordingly.

            As for having no power stopping it, he would have that choice but he would feel forced to cast me out.

            Also, I doubt my assignment is void, unfortunately. I might be expected to participate until I get a signal that I can no longer do this mission. And where we’re at, it’s most likely soon.

            “I have looked after myself and I still will,” I say, walking past him. What is it with him thinking that I don’t have any agency? Probably used to looking after his sister.

           

* * *

 

            It didn’t take long for Raven to fix the faulty walkies and I make sure she’s absent from her tent as I sneak in through the back. Overhearing her, Wells, and Bellamy, communication will be on channel a. I might have to use channel b to communicate with father.

            We don’t have use for technology but we read how basic technology works. So we’re not entirely ignorant.

            I swipe two walkies, pocketing one for personal use and go out of the tent. Everybody else is waiting for dinner, so I slip behind the dropship where their dead are buried. I pick up the shovel and dig up a patch of dirt from the base of the wall. I put down the shovel and crawl through the hole.

            There are exterior intel around so I wouldn’t take me long to find someone to take the walkie to father. It only takes a minute until I spot Aspen behind a tree, eyeing the situation in the camp. He comes to stand in attention as soon as he sees me.

            “ _A communication radio_ ,” I say, handing it to him. “ _Give it to my father. The Sky People will be speaking through channel a, so tell him to use the second channel_.”

            “ _Will do_ ,” he answers, taking the walkie. “ _Becoming risky to leave their camp?”_

            “ _No, but they would rather have me not leave the camp often because they think I might get attacked for being a traitor to the clan_ ,” I answer with an eye roll. Bellamy had a good concern but it was misplaced.

            He chuckles. “ _How wrong they are_ ,” he says as he pockets the walkie. “ _Go back there before they see that you are gone. I will take this to your father_.”

            I nod as I see Rory come into sight.

“ _Changing shifts_?” I ask.

“ _Just this morning, a hunter reported seeing a dead fox without it’s pelt_ ,” he answers. “ _Your father is having rangers and scouts patrol the woods for sign of poachers_.”

Ah, yes. Poaching is mainly a problem in the harvest season. The perpetrators are usually from Ice Nation. Apparently they haven’t been honoring the terms of the truce set by Lexa as of late and this is probably the tenth incident from them. If I remember correctly, Lexa’s patience is wearing thin and she’s going to threaten _Azgeda_ with sanctions unless they want to stay in the Coalition. Queen Nia is lucky that Lexa is Commander, for Huron would have called on the eleven armies of the eleven clans to lay waste on _Azgeda_ after a second incident.

In fact, the Delinquents should be lucky that Huron is no longer Commander. He would have wanted them wiped out the moment he heard about a dropship landing in a territory of a clan that is part of the Coalition.

I go back to the fence, crawling through the hole I dug. As I cover it with a shovel, I hear fascinated and curious mutters. After setting the shovel back where I found it, I join the group of delinquents; Wells, Clarke, Bellamy, and Finn among them.

           “Your mother is early,” says Bellamy, and I see Clarke smile. Oh, her mother was also going to be on the first exodus ship. How am I going to stomach seeing Clarke with her mother when I don’t have my own to begin with?

            “They were supposed be here in a day,” says Wells, frowning.

            After a few seconds when the descent accelerates, Clarke frowns. “Wait. Too fast. No parachute. Something’s wrong.”

            It only takes a few seconds until it hits the ground and the explosion can be seen for thirty miles away.

            Clarke collapses in shock but Wells grabs her before she could reach the ground. If I’m correct, the crash coordinates are a few miles from Mount Weather’s big satellites.

 

* * *

 

            “We will go there in two days and examine the wreckage,” I hear Bellamy say as I stand outside the back of the tent with the walkie in my hand; the next morning after the exodus ship crash.

            “Hopefully we’ll be able to get the black box and see why that ship crashed,” says Raven.

            Clarke says something inaudible to which Wells replies. “Considering that we lost contact with the Ark a day before the ship crashed, I doubt your mother was on that ship.”

            “What are you talking about, Wells?” asks Clarke.

            “When the radio was cut off, it was as if a explosive cut off the communication,” says Wells, “and then the exodus ship comes down prematurely. Considering that there were people on the Ark that were never fond of my father, I think what we saw was the aftermath of a failed coup.”

            After a pause, Clarke says, “I wouldn’t be surprised if that was true.”

            “And it takes time to decouple the ships from the Ark,” says Raven. “It would have still been connected to the Ark’s life support system due to its premature launch.”

            I move away from the tent and when I make sure I’m isolated, I turn on the second channel and speak. “ _Father, they are not coming down after all. Seems like there was discord among them_.”

            I put it to my ear and after a few seconds, I hear him. “ _Good. Without reinforcements, they are more susceptible to attack_.”

            “ _Any indication when Anya might prepare her unit?_ ” I ask.

            “ _Right now, our priority is to break a confession out of our prisoner_ ,” he says. “ _It shouldn’t be long and by then we will send him back with a hemorrhagic fever to soften the battlefield_.”

            In our artillery, is a room full of jars; each one containing a fabric with a disease culture. Every time someone is dying from an illness, we save a scrap of clothing for biological warfare purposes. To enter the room, one has to wear a hazmat suit so they can handle the jars without getting infected themselves.

            If we don’t want fatalities, we use biological warfare to soften the battlefield. If we want a fight, we trap them in with scouts and riders before the army comes. That depends on the circumstances. We would usually choose the former after a battle with large fatalities or we’re in a situation where we don’t want to lose too many people. Since the harvest season started yesterday they are bound to choose the former.

            “ _Right_ ,” I answer, knowing that father will inform me a few hours ahead of time so I wouldn’t be there when they come. In any case, I should get Wells out of there too. It might risk my cover but I don’t want him to get infected and slaughtered by Anya’s unit.

            It might be selfish as there are others I want to remove from the area, like Charlotte and Raven but that would be too conspicuous. I can only spare one.

           

* * *

 

            It’s been two days since the exodus ship crash. With the incoming cold and the threat of winter, Wells, Bellamy, and Clarke dispatch hunting groups. They use my map for reference to see what hunting paths to take to avoid the checkpoints but they have to hunt when the harvesting groups are at lunch and dinner. So they can avoid any conflict.

When it was time for the group of delinquents to go on a hunting expedition, I go to the food store and move things around to make sure there is room for food that could last them up to four months. Hopefully they know how to extract salt from river water.

            A hour into moving crates around, I take a seat and take a drink from my water container. It’s nearly empty and the last time I refilled it was five days ago. I toss the container across the shed in frustration.

            I’m frustrated because I should be out there. I should be out there in either checkpoints or helping gathering food. Not staying here because Bellamy thinks that I’ll be targeted.

            “Everything okay in here?” I hear Wells ask me. I look to see his head peering in the doorway, as if to check on me.

            “Someone is a good people reader,” I say with a sigh. “I’m frustrated.”

            “Bellamy isn’t expecting you to sit here all the time,” Wells replies as he takes a seat next to me. “Just not often.”

            “I have learned to be stealthy all my life,” I reply. “I am pretty sure I could protect myself and make sure I don’t get speared or killed with a arrow.”

            I lean back and take a deep breath. it feels a little warm in here. Either because a person is sitting next to me or the blood is reaching my cheeks.

            “We could both go out and visit the trading/post farm sometime,” he says, like just asking it feels awkward. “That way you could not feel like your restrained here and I could learn more about how you do things here.”

           Now if my cheeks were rose pink, I must be cherry red now. In my clan, when someone asks another if they would like to hunt or travel to get goods alone together for another day, usually it’s a romantic escapade. Years ago, when I was twelve and when Lexa was spending three days in Brighton Village for a furlough with her mentor, I remember asking Lexa if we could both hunt before she returned to Polis.

            I remembered that I was stammering and that my face was red. As a result, Nigel and Bristol mocked me for the next three days.

            “Oh, to the trading post farm? Just the two of us?” I ask. I’m definitely redder.

            “Of course,” he says with that bright smile of his.

            My goodness. My goodness. I am for sure red as a cherry. I could feel the heat of my blood on my face.

            Boy, I feel like a girl with a hopeless crush. Maybe it is a crush. I don’t know.

 

* * *

 

            Around dinner time, I hear the latest from father. Murphy has broken. Right now, Bristol has sent a fabric infected with a hemorrhagic fever into his cell and tomorrow afternoon they will leave his cell door open so he could escape.

            By tomorrow night he will return to camp carrying a hemorrhagic fever to infect the camp. I have to get Wells out of there before everyone gets sick and when Anya’s unit gets to the camp and attacks.

            That would risk me being discovered but he’s bound to find out. And I dread his reaction if he does find out.

 

* * *

 

            That morning Clarke, Bellamy, Raven, Finn, and a few others go to investigate the crash of the exodus ship. Norbridge farm is a six hour walk from here but unfortunately we might get there by tomorrow morning considering that it’s lunchtime.

            “Why now?” Wells asks as I stock the wagon with animal pelts. “Clarke and Bellamy are going to wonder where we are. Besides, Bellamy left me and Miller in charge.”

            “I took care of it,” I say. “One thing I learned about Miller is that he has a liking for strawberries.”

            Also, if I heard overtime, Miller has no interest in girls whatsoever. Turns out he has a boyfriend up in that Lego Space Castle. Unlike Finn, Miller isn’t concerned with getting laid.

            “Bribing him with strawberries,” says Wells. “Interesting.”

            I take out the clothing I snagged from the village clothing cache and hand him the oversized trench coat. “As Bellamy said, they might see me as a traitor for helping you and since I wouldn’t want to be seen with you, you might have to masquerade as one of us. Since everybody technically knows everyone, you will be wearing a headpiece.”

            He looks at the garments and he says, “Masquerading as a member of the Woods Clan. Not what I expected when I got myself arrested twenty-four hours before the Dropship launch.”

            I realized that while I learned what others were locked up for (Murphy for arson, Charlotte for assault, Finn for going on a spacewalk, Octavia for being a second child, etc.), I never learned what Wells got locked up for. Maybe it never occurred to me to ask because he seems like the type of person that would never commit a felony or a minor infraction that no one should be locked up for.

            “What did they lock you in for?” I ask as he changes into the boots I provided for him. “You never seem to be the type of person to get locked up, especially if your father’s a leader of your people.”

            Wells sighs. “If I tell you, you might get upset.”

            “Why would I get upset?” I ask, raising my eyebrow; wondering why I would ever get upset.

            “Okay,” he answers, before closing his eyes and opening them again. “We have something in the Ark that is called the Eden Tree. I sort of set it ablaze. That was the only serious crime I could think of that didn’t involve hurting anyone.”

            So, he damaged a tree. That’s why he was hesitant to tell me. Considering how he is, it’s very out of character for him to damage a tree.

            “How damaged was it?” I ask.

            “I didn’t completely burn it,” Wells answers as I help attach the furs to the oversized leather trench coat. “A few of the leaves were singed from what I heard. However, it’s worth it so far.”

            I snort. “You committed a crime to get down here. You who took rules to heart. Why?”

            “I was just being a friend,” he answers. “I was hoping that seeing a familiar face would help Clarke, even if she did hate my guts at the time.”

            So he went down to a radioactive planet, a planet they weren’t sure would sustain human life, to look after a girl that initially treated him like dirt when they came down here. I think the best of people would do that.

            I nod. “Do the best of us do that?”

            “If you care about someone enough to,” he says, holding the headpiece. He puts it on and I strap it at the back of his head. “Do I look inconspicuous yet?”

            I examine him. I doubt they will pay attention to his pants since the trench coat is tied tight to conceal his white shirt. “They will not notice a thing.”

            He straps his quiver to his torso and if I can see correctly, he would look like someone that has originated from the clan. We both sit at the front of the wagon and I tug the reins; commanding Athena to go.

            “We might get stopped by checkpoints, so it’s best not to speak since you don’t know our language yet,” I say as the wagon begins moving.

            “What should I do?” he asks.

            “Pretend to be mute,” I answer.

            “That works,” he says after a pause.

            Athena tugs the wagon through the wilderness; whatever is left of the tree leaves cloaking us from the sun. The breeze hitting our skin. It’s nippy but the furs are keeping us warm though I think it partly has to do with the fact that we are sitting close to each other to where our bodies are touching.

            A hour and a half into our travel, I see our first checkpoint stationed at a dilapidated and broken overpass. Gustav, Nigel, and Corrine. All draped with furs and wearing their headpieces though Nigel has lifted the mouth guard to eat soup from a can.

            I could feel my heart racing and the knot ties in my stomach. Please don’t let there be complications, please don’t let there be complications.

            Gustav sees me and to my relief, motions me to keep moving. They know that my circumstances would prohibit me from participating in the harvest hunts and they wouldn’t feel the need to update the harvest quota.

            Once we are fear from earshot, I explain, “Checkpoints exist during harvest to see how much was gathered to update quota and to make sure you belong in our clan, even if everyone knows everyone.”

            “Quota?” asks Wells.

            “The clan has to have a certain amount of food, enough to last them for at least three months,” I answer. “The low populated villages, like TonDC, usually have people from other residences help with obtaining food.”

            “Is TonDC civilian or warrior?” he asks.

            “Mainly civilian,” I answer. “There are like six warriors excluding Indra but that’s in case a group of five people come and attack. Villages with a high civilian count have to have a few warriors as they are the most vulnerable to attack.”

            Ice Nation warriors had a tendency to attack villages with high civilian counts. They went for shock and terror while we focused on trying to decrease their warrior count.

            It’s been another two hours that we have been on the road and at the sight of the sun reaching the horizon, I decide that it’s time to stop for the night. During overnight trips, we have to camp where a signal fire pit is located in case Reapers are spotted.

            It only takes five minutes to find one.

            I stop the wagon and tie the wagon to the wooden pegs. Tight enough so that it doesn’t roll away. I notice that Wells takes off the headpiece. He should have it back on by first light.

            After making a fire, I open my provisions bag and take out what could satisfy our stomachs until the morning. That is, crackers, beef strips, and dried fruit. As we eat, we lie on the grass and gaze at the darkening sky, watching the stars light up the sky.

            “How often have you gazed up at the stars?” he asks me.

            “Not too often,” I answer. “Only when I needed to take a path home after dark.”

            “We actually learned how to use the stars and constellations like a compass while we took Earth Skills up there, though you most likely learned it from someone who’s done that,” he says.

            All my life, there was one star that seemed brighter than the rest. Like it outshined the rest. I once thought Father Christmas lived up in that bright star, even though I was told that it was most likely the Sky People.

            I wonder…

            “That bright star, the one that outshone the others,” I say. “Was that you, I wonder?”

            “It is, though I don’t think one could see it anymore,” he answers. “I wonder what your people thought before a pod came down fifteen years ago.”

            I smile. “I thought it was Father Christmas.”

            “You still have Christmas?” he asks in interest.

            “Obviously,” I answer. “It’s one of the few holidays that we retained after the nuclear war, and I suppose that the truth could be said for you.”

            “Clarke’s mother and a few other women would pitch in their food rations to make Christmas cookies,” he says fondly, rolling to his side. “They tasted pretty good, though the gingerbread men were the best.”

            I roll to my side to face him and I smile. “Well, this will be the first year you will see snow, since you most likely have seen it in pictures.”

            “And in moving pictures from the Ark video feed,” he continues. “I know what it looks like and I heard that it’s cold.”

            “It’s ice cold,” I answer. “Cold to where your hands turn red.”

            “I wouldn’t doubt it,” he says.

            I chuckle. Our faces are a mere few inches to each other, close enough that his coffee brown eyes are magnified. My palms sweat and my heart pounds heavy in my chest.

            And my eyes trace to his lips for a few seconds.

            My fingers grab a fistful of the grass beneath us and slowly, his lips met mine.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

His warm mouth sends current that I never felt in my body since my first kiss with Lexa. I’m still at first; my mind shifting like it’s trying to process the situation. However, it only takes a few moments until I put my hand on his shoulder and return the kiss. I part my mouth to add slight pressure but so that it doesn’t lose its gentleness.

            The kiss ends as fast just as it started. Our lips part but our noses touch. After a few seconds he awkwardly shifts away like he’s trying to collect his thoughts.

            I guess this was the first time he kissed someone. I remember my first kiss. I was twelve and it happened during the Christmas gala that was held in the Commander’s Tower. Lexa and I were caught under the mistletoe and Lexa gave me a quick peck on the lips. I could remember the blood rushing to my cheeks, Titus shaking his head in disapproval, and Anya covering her mouth; trying to contain her amused chuckle. While Lexa was my first kiss, I had never kissed a boy before.

            I have a romantic attraction to both boys and girls but sexual attraction is obsolete. Unless there is a emotional attachment.

            “Um, I think we should turn in for the night,” he says awkwardly.

            I could not disagree. One because it is awkward to talk to him and two I could feel the onset of fatigue coming. So I lay my head on the ground, my arm as a pillow. I close my eyes and try to fall to sleep.

            Maybe ten minutes pass and I can’t bring myself to sleep. I sigh and turn to look at Wells’s curled up body. His face peaceful as he sleeps. The only time we experience peace is when we sleep.

            For a few moments, I watch him. It’s hard to imagine what happened. Hard to imagine what took place. The sleeping boy next to me was born above the Earth, believing that the planet he saw orbiting everyday was uninhabited. While I lived down here, hunting, scavenging, and fighting, and even when I looked to the stars to guide me home at night, I knew that there were people up there. Something that my parents and the people before them never thought possible until fifteen years ago.

            Yet, the connection I feel towards him isn’t bound by geography or the stars. There was no barrier. No walls when we met. Is this what happens when the ground meets the sky?

            I lie down and turn away from him. When I feel tears from my eyes, I wipe them from my face with the heel of my palm. If anything happens to him it will be my fault. I can’t let anything to happen to him.

 

* * *

 

            By daybreak, we leave the campsite and head back out to our trail; barely speaking a word as we ride the wagon to our destination. I guess that like me, he feels it’s awkward to make conversation. More awkward for him because this is obviously his first time kissing a girl.

            However, that didn’t prevent us from making idle and random comments.

            “What do you know? A changing billboard,” he says, pointing to a broken black screen supported by a rusting, metal pole.

            Billboards were a thing of the past. We are far from the days of seeing advertisements near roads. They were most likely accident-causing distractions.

            By late morning, we reach the shrubs and the trees that help conceal the farm from view.

            “I wouldn’t know it was here if I walked by it.” Wells points out.

            “We keep it hidden so that outsiders wouldn’t see it,” I say in response. “There are traps that keep the Reapers away. Now stop talking.”

            We pass the bushes and trees, and when I see Old Jack’s post trading office that’s connected to his cabin, I pull the wagon to a stop. I set aside the reins before we both depart from the wagon.

            We take out the animal pelts from the wagon and our feet crunch on the gravel as we approach the post trading office. We’re not here too early, as smoke is coming from the exhaust chimney of the cabin.

            The bell dings as I push open the door with my free hand. The room smells of furs and dust as usual. From my peripheral vision I can see Wells looking around to survey his surroundings and straight ahead Old Jack is adjusting crates of items behind the desk before he spots us.

            His mouth breaks into a grin before saying, “ _What could I do for you two today?_ ”

            “ _We have animal pelts to trade in exchange for dairy and meat_ ,” I answer, placing the pelts on his desk.

            “ _I could do that_ ,” he says with a nod before looking through the furs. “ _The chickens have just released new eggs so you’re on time_.” He looks over my shoulder and asks, “ _Find something that you like, son_?”

            I look to see Wells analyzing a book that was probably inside that crate of books on the shelves. He looks at Old Jack and I could judge by his eyes that he’s confused by what Jack said. It probably mind boggles him to hear me speak in a language other than English.

            “ _He’s mute, so I doubt he will answer_ ,” I say, approaching Wells. I look at the book and see that he’s holding a copy of _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone_. I have a copy and it’s six successors in my bookshelf in my bedroom back in my house. The story of a boy growing up in Pre-Nuclear Europe and finding out he’s a wizard is enough to make the imaginative dream of colorful and vibrant things. I never liked Dumbledore though. Even Hermione for that matter.

            Judging how Wells is looking at it, this story must have been an important childhood sentiment. Even if he didn’t own this particular copy.

            I gently take the book from his hands and put it to the desk. “ _We would like this as part of our haul_.”

            “ _Manageable_ ,” he says, taking out the keys that unlock the door to the back that leads to the barnyard. We follow him through the mesh tunnel supported by thin medal poles. Entering the barnyard, I focus on Wells and see that his eyes are focused on the chicken coop; his eyes the size of saucers.

            Chickens were smaller before the Nuclear Apocalypse and thanks to the radiation they have doubled in size. I doubt there were animals on the Ark but the closest thing he saw to animals were most likely pictures.

            Looking at Wells, unfortunately when we leave, I’m going to put him somewhere since there will be nothing left back at camp by tomorrow morning. And it’s not at my village since it’s the clan’s military stronghold, therefore unsafe for me and himself.

            The safest place for him is the _Floukru_ , which is situated on a derelict oil rig and led by a young woman named Luna. People who have been cast out due to deformities or escaping from wars usually go there for safe passage and sanctuary. The _Floukru_ is one of the few clans that have started out pacifist after the Nuclear Apocalypse and to remain that way. The same could be said for the Plain Riders, the Delphi, and the Broadleaf Clan.

            However, _Floukru_ is the safest place for him.

 

* * *

 

            We leave Norbridge Farm; the wagon with crates of eggs, jars of milk, cow meat, and pork. Like this morning, we don’t speak much but I see that Wells is reading his book. Turning the pages of the ancient book with care. One thing I read about Mount Weather, is that they can rescue art and literature in the event of a Nuclear war. Well, they haven’t “rescued” every book in this continent. We still have access to books, specifically the ones that weren’t burned for fuel during the nuclear winter that lasted for three years.

            By dusk, we’re approximately three and a half hours away from the camp but it would be impossible due to the current circumstances. So, I set up camp at a area with a signal fire pit.

            “I always wondered why no one took Harry out of the Dursley’s at some point,” Wells says to me as I prepare dinner over the fire. “Britain had services to help abused children, like the NSPCC for example.”

            “I never understood why Dumbledore even put Harry with close-minded relatives,” I answer. “Like, yeah there was a blood ward to protect him but shouldn’t his mental and emotional wellbeing matter as well?”

            “Exactly,” says Wells. “Not to mention that he manipulated Harry and others.”

            “That is why I hate him,” I explain. “He was a master manipulator.”

            I hear rustling in the trees nearby. Wells looks around, trying to find the source as I go for my sword.

            “What is it?” he asks me as I strap my sheathed sword to my torso.

            “Quiet,” I whisper. “It could be Reapers.”

            I put my hand on my sword and position myself to fight. My eyes follow the movement causing the rustling in the trees and the bushes, only to reveal that they might are not Reapers. That it’s a different kind of worst case scenario when I see the first one begin to step out.

            “ _Ice Nation_ ,” I hiss.

            In fact, he’s not the only one as three others come from the trees, carrying their bows; with their quivers stocked full of arrows. The bag that one of them is carrying could only indicate what they are doing.

            Poaching that is.

            “ _You are in Woods Clan territory_ ,” I say formally. “ _You are in violation of the Ice Nation-Coalition ceasefire_. _I would go back if I were you_.”

            The first one smirks and chuckles. “ _Actually, we were thinking of joining you and your friend for dinner_ ,” he says, his tone indicating sinister intentions; one that sent the hairs on my neck standing up.

            And slowly, they close in on me, furthering revealing that their intentions are sinister. Their focus seems to be entirely on me, as they are ignoring Wells; who looks horrified.

            “ _You look familiar_ ,” says the second one. “ _Weren’t you romantically involved with Commander Lexa five years ago_?”

            “ _That relationship came and went like thunderstorms_ ,” I argue. “ _We parted ways because we figured we were better as friends_.”

            That is a lie only intended to have them back off. Lexa only broke off the relationship on Titus’s advice; that it would put both of us in danger if we continued our love affair.

            It doesn’t seem to work unfortunately, as the first one leers and steps closer to me. His friend coming closer from behind. The blood pounds in my ears and I put my hand on my shoulder to make it look like I’m scratching it when I’m reaching for my sword.

            “ _I don’t know if it’s true_ ,” he says. “ _You two were very close. More closer then friends_.”

            “ _My personal life isn’t your concern, thank you very much_ ,” I say.

            “ _Keep trying all you want, girl_ ,” says the third one. “ _Your father is not here to protect you from danger_.”

            The blood reaches my face upon hearing some sort of confirmation that their intentions are sinister and who knows what they want to do with me. I grab my sword and pull it out; slashing the neck of the fourth Ice Nation poacher.

            I plunge my sword in the first one’s torso and pull it out. I feel a slicing pain on my arm but I ignore it as I slash the third person in the side of the neck. When I turn to take care of the fourth one he grabs my wrists and topples me on the ground.

            He moves his fingers to my windpipe and applies pressure, and I try to pry his hands off my neck by pushing his arms but he adds more pressure in response. I start to see black dots in my vision and my struggle weakens.

            I hear the sound of an arrow being released from a bowstring and I see the arrow piercing the base of my assailant’s neck. He collapses on me and I shove his weight off me. I turn over and massage my neck, gasping for breath.

            I look up to see Wells holding the bow; he’s completely frozen, with his eyes the size of saucers. With my hands on the ground, I push myself up so that I’m standing on my feet. I go to pick up my sword and wipe it clean.

            “Costia, you’re bleeding,” he says urgently.

            I look at my right arm and see that my blood is oozing out of the gash in my sleeve. Not to mention that I feel a searing pain through my arm. I remove my trench coat, vest, and shirt to take a good look at it. It’s a flesh wound. I’ve had worse during my six years in battle.

            “I’ll get something for that,” I hear him say.

            My fingers find the handle of my knife and I pull it out before putting the metal against the blade. When the blade is red hot, I lift it from the fire and press the hot knife against the wound. I grit my teeth when the burning hiss emits from the knife. Then I remove the knife when the wound has been fused together.

            I look at Wells, who had apparently taken my medicinal case out of my bag. Like he was going to find something to treat the wound before I went to cauterize the wound. He didn’t have to. Looking down at the bodies of the Ice Nation poachers, we need to leave the area. The hunters will find the bodies in the morning.

 

* * *

 

            We relocate to another area and sleep there. A few feet away, I notice that Wells has given up sleeping after he continually tossed and turned. I myself drift between phases of consciousness.

            Thinking back to what Wells said the afternoon we departed from the camp, he made sure it was a serious crime that didn’t involve hurting anyone. He most likely expected that only animals would die at his hand when he descended down here. Knowing him, he surely didn’t expect to kill another human just to save someone.

            Twelve people have died by my hand during the six years I fought in battle while under father’s tutelage. Add three more after what transpired a few hours ago. Wells had never killed anyone until now.

            My façade must be cracking now. I can just imagine him standing there frozen as he watched me take down those poachers like it was nothing. Like I had done it many times before. He’s now seen that I am capable of being cold, ruthless, brutal, and calculating towards my enemies. That I’m not the nice girl he thought I was. Killing Ice Nation poachers like it was nothing puts a crack on my civilian lie. If father knew, he would be furious and lecture me on my carelessness; telling me that I know better than my brother.

            Though at this point, he wouldn’t think it would matter.

            At dusk, we depart. We’re silent but looking at Wells I could tell he’s disturbed by what happened. That he probably now hates himself for having blood on his hands.

            “Wells, if you’re thinking about last night, you did what you had to do,” I say.

            “When I came down, I didn’t expect to kill someone,” he says. “That I would make sure it didn’t get to that point.”

            “Down here, there are times where you have to make choices that cross the moral boundary,” I remind him. “You are going to make difficult choices to ensure your own or other people’s safety; sometimes at the expense of other people. You saved my life and I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

            While the clan looks down on leaving your allies to die, we have to acknowledge that what goes on behind the curtain is beyond control and that there are times our personal safety and the safety of close friends and family is top priority.

            “Costia, what were those men talking about before you killed them?” he asks me with gentle curiosity.

            A explosion is heard in the distance and we look to see a cloud of smoke and debris billowing from the trees.

           “The bridge,” says Wells, furrowing his eyebrows. “What was that about?”

            My first instinct is to investigate the explosion to detect the cause but my mind tells me to return to the site of the Dropship instead; that the answers lie there.

            If so, that means Anya’s attempt has failed, which means that it will only be in a few days before father leads a attack.

            Considering Wells’s welfare, this is horrible news and something that I wanted to avoid.

            I will not allow Wells to die by a army led by my father.     

 

 

           

 

 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x11 and the beginning of 1x12 will merge in this chapter and unfortunately due to the limits of first person narration, Wells will be absent for some time, though that wouldn’t diminish the impotence he has in this story and in the series (if him not dying was canon).  
> Due to Wells not dying, Murphy isn’t going to go on his revenge spree.

We arrive back at camp the same time as Jasper, Monty, Raven, and Finn; though Finn is cradling a weakened and ill Raven in his arms. I don’t understand why he wastes his time acting like he cares for her when it’s clear that he prefers Clarke.

            “Where were you guys?” Finn asks us.

            “Costia wanted to leave the camp for a while and we visited the trading post/farm,” answers Wells. “We bought meat and dairy items with us.”

            Upon entering through the gate, we were greeted by a frantic and relieved Clarke. She wrapped her arms around Wells and I could feel the blood rush to my face as I watch them. Even though I remind himself that he holds no romantic feelings for her at this point.

            When she separates from Wells, she approaches me. “Where were you? We needed you yesterday,” she demands.

            “What happened yesterday?” Wells asks.      

            “Two nights ago, Murphy came back to camp, having been tortured by the warriors from the Grounder clan,” answers Bellamy. “It wasn’t until yesterday morning that we found out that they infected him with a virus to weaken the camp before a attack. Raven’s bomb should hold them off for a couple of days.”

            “Is he okay?” I ask, pretending to play coy. I’m actually surprised how they knew about it, unless Octavia went to Lincoln to get a cure only to learn from him that they were softening a battlefield. That is the only thing I can think of.

            Lincoln would know about it; even if he’s disowned from the clan due to his love affair with Octavia. Best that father doesn’t know that I myself have feelings for someone that fell from the sky.

            As for the bombing of the bridge, it could only confirm that Anya hasn’t succeeded. That father is going to take the reins and launch an attack. This camp’s days are numbered. Their days are numbered and they don’t even know it.

            “What happened?” Clarke asks me, looking at the tear in my sleeve.

            “It’s nothing,” I say with a roll of my eyes. She shouldn’t know that I killed three Ice Nation poachers last night.

            I move to go but she grabs me. “Let me check that.”

            If she checks it, she’s going to unravel my web of lies, even presented with an excuse. Clarke is no idiot.

 

* * *

 

            “A nail?” Clarke asks as she examines the cauterized wound in Raven’s tent.

            “That’s what happened,” says Wells calmly. “Her coat got caught by it and she sliced herself while trying to break free.”

            “It’s a good thing she cauterized it to avoid infection,” Clarke says as she sticks red seaweed on the bandage. She looks again at the wound and her eyes narrow. I grit my teeth as she pinches it before running her finger on it. She looks incredulously at the black blood on her finger. “Black blood,” she says to herself.

            “I told you she bled like black ink when we were going to find Jasper and you sounded skeptical,” says Wells.

            “That was when I misdirected my anger at you,” Clarke replies. “Her blood could be black as a mutation caused by the radiation.”

            “That’s the first thing that came to mind as well,” Wells says.

            I could tell them that I my black blood goes back to the First Commander. That she injected thirty-seven people with a black drug which in turn made their blood black. That it is recessive hereditary trait due to the fact that bone marrow is used to producing red blood cells. That Nightbloods are either chosen to go through the Conclave after the next Commander’s death or they are not, though the latter is expected to pass down the black blood. However, right now it would be complicated for them to understand.

            Clarke applies the bandage but afterwards she runs her fingers on my kill marks. There should be fifteen now after last night.

            “Are they some kind of identification they use in case someone goes missing?” Clarke asks me.

            I sigh. “If I tell you, you would add that to the list of why you don’t like my clan.”

            I get off the bed and snag my shirt and shrug it on before leaving with my vest and jacket. It’s going to have Clarke suspicious but what does it matter at this point?

 

* * *

 

            It’s been two days since the bombing at the bridge. Yesterday morning, I heard from father that portion of Anya’s unit who were storming the bridge had numerous casualties and apparently the village healer fell to her death when trying to treat someone’s wounds. Anya came out okay though Tris is not doing great.

            One could only imagine how Anya must be feeling. Tris is an akin to a daughter to her. Like how Lexa is to her as well.

            Everything is going to be hell now that Anya couldn’t do it. These kids won’t last twenty minutes against a army led by father.

            Yesterday, I made the decision of removing the wagon from the camp. There would be no need for it anymore anyway. I tie a piece of cloth on the wagon to signify that it should be returned to it’s village of origin. Technically, it’s the village’s wagon and not my own.

            Though, I made sure I wasn’t suspicious. Ever since I returned to the camp, it’s like a few eyes were watching me. Especially Clarke’s and Bellamy’s. My absence from the Delinquents’ camp would be indicative that I knew what was going to happen. That a mole could have infiltrated the camp but they wouldn’t have concrete proof and resort to keeping watch on me instead.

            Surprisingly, Murphy keeps making snarky and snide comments like nothing was different. He’s no idiot but he doesn’t know everything.

            This morning after breakfast, hunting parties begin to depart. Ordered to steer away from contact with anyone. Today, it seems like Clarke wants to hunt and she’s not going alone.

            “Decided to go on a hunting expedition?” I ask Wells as we stand in the Dropship.

            “Finn offered to go but I decided that it would be best if he stayed,” Wells answers, fastening the quiver around his torso.

            I look back at Raven, who’s standing next to Monty; who is examining the black box of the crashed exodus ship. According to him, it’s been giving out a jammed signal. Got to love Mount Weather’s giant satellites. I bet one of them could feed an entire village for a month.

            “Good thing then,” I say, though considering the circumstances I would rather have Finn go with Clarke then Wells. However, I can’t force him to stay.

            “Are you ready?” I hear Clarke ask him. “We should be back by nightfall.”

            “Yes,” says Wells, picking up his bow. He looks back at me and says, “See you when I return.”

            I find myself walking closer to him before pecking him on the lips. “Be careful, Wells,” I say after withdrawing.

            “We will,” he says with a smile before I watch him walk out of the Dropship with Clarke and a boy with thick hair (Myles I think it is).

            “I saw that,” says Raven and I turn to see her with a knowing smile on her face.

            I roll my eyes. “Shut up, Raven,” I say.

            “There’s nothing to be ashamed of if you like him,” Raven says. “Besides it was very obvious from the get go.”

            I snort as I lift the curtain. “Murphy seems to think so too.”

            Walking out of the Dropship, I see Finn serving himself some of what is left over from breakfast. He looks troubled. Serves him right though maybe I could go over there to see what tripe he’s going to say.

            With that in mind, I approach the food serving table. “Something is preoccupying you,” I say.

            “I guess you could say that,” he says.

            “Is it about Raven?” I ask, raising my eyebrow.

            He turns to look at me before heaving a sigh. “It’s just she thought I cared for Clarke more than her,” he says. “It’s not the case. I love her.”

            I roll my eyes. Why don’t those words surprise me? “If you truly loved her, you wouldn’t have flirted with me and Clarke before sleeping with the latter. Frankly, I’m not stupid and neither is Raven, as it’s been clear that you have been flaunting your preference for Clarke.”

            Finn frowns. “I didn’t think I was going to see Raven again. Also, Clarke initiated the first move.”

            The first sentence suggests he knows important information that I don’t know but the second one is what brings the blood to my face and hands. I don’t like Clarke but it disgusts me that he blamed Clarke for his infidelity when he has the freewill to reject her.

            I knock the bowl from his hands. Everyone looks at our direction as the contents splatter on the earth.

            “My mother disappeared from my life since I was nine and my father has been celibate since,” I say before putting my hand on mother’s seashell pendant. “In fact he’s kept this with him in his possession until recently.”

            Father has never been with anyone else since mother but he’s not the type of man who believes in soulmates. He finds the concept illogical. Knowing father, he’s afraid of having another significant other because he doesn’t want to lose that person either. Seeing how he interacts with Anya from time to time, it’s obvious he’s having a hard time any feelings he might have. Anya seems to have some unresolved feelings as well. They say that sometimes you begin to have feelings for your best friend.

            “Also, Miller over there has a boyfriend up there and do I see him nailing another boy?” I point out. “So yeah, if you cared about Raven, you wouldn’t have flirted with others girls and you can shove that sorry excuse up your shaft, you misogynistic prick.”

            Chuckles and laughter ripples around the crowds before I walk away. Finn needed to hear that and I have wanted to say it for some time since he recovered from his injury. Also, I could care less if he is present when the army gets here tomorrow. I don’t care about protecting him from father. Father could kill him himself for all I care.

 

* * *

 

            When the sun has just dipped under the horizon, the large hunting party returned from their expedition but I see no sign of Wells and Clarke.

            “Wells and Clarke should be back too,” I say to myself as I set down my water container.

            “Give them a few hours,” says Bellamy, taking a seat next to me.

            Morbid thoughts go through my mind. There is a chance that they got captured by Anya and some of her unit. Or they were captured by members of father’s unit. Neither of those scenarios is good. Hopefully I’m wrong and they are going to come through that gate any moment.

            I see Raven and Finn talking near the Dropship. I’m not near the conversation to hear them but judging by Raven’s clenched jaw and Finn’s wringing his hands, I could tell that Finn is giving her a load of tripe and that she’s having none of it. She turns away from him, only to turn back to him and launch a punch at his nose.

            I chuckle as he staggers back; his hands clamped on his nose. He removes his hand from his nose and looks at it. Blood is flowing from his nose. That’s what he gets for being a two-timing jerk.

            Raven frowns at him before she approaches Bellamy. “Mind if I talk to you for a moment?”

            “No,” says Bellamy. “Why?”

            Raven doesn’t say anything. She just takes his hand and leads him to his tent. I have seen that done enough that I know what’s going to happen.

            Murphy takes Bellamy’s empty spot. “That was interesting to watch,” he says.

            “Finn deserved it,” I say, looking at the gate. Come on, Wells. Come back.

            “What is on your mind?” Murphy asks me.

            “Wells and Clarke have not returned back,” I say.

            “I am sure he’s okay,” Murphy replies. “He has Clarke with him.”

            I snort. “I am sure that Wells can take care of himself,” I say. “He’s not a idiot.”

            Murphy tilts his head. “So, something is going on between you two,” he notes.

            “What makes you think that?” I challenge.

            “You are sitting here pining for him and when he, Clarke, and Myles left the Dropship, I thought I heard Clarke ask him what that kiss was about,” says Murphy.

            “That is a bold statement,” I say in response.

            “If you kissed him, you might feel something for him, right?” asks Murphy.

            I sigh and walk away but I can’t deny the fact that I do feel something for him. That to me he’s a friend that’s more than just a friend. He probably thinks the same thing of me. Maybe I do love him.

            The sky turns black and with no sign of Wells and Clarke, I bite my nails in apprehension. They did get captured or worse. It’s definite that they did because they didn’t return when they were supposed to. I could feel it in my gut.

            Bellamy notices that’s past the time to come back and he recruits Octavia, Raven, and Monty for a search party before departing with them. I have half the mind to grab my quiver and join them to help look for Wells but with the threat of a defensive attack tomorrow it will be heavily risky. Also, I’m under a cloud of suspicion as it is.

            So I stay in the Dropship, listening to their correspondence on one of the walkies that I swiped.

            “I thought you said you were heading west,” I hear Monty say from the walkie. “Where are you?”

            “Just keep the moon on your left and you’ll find us,” says Bellamy in reply.

            I scratch my neck with my bitten fingernails; the blood pounding in my ears. My heart sinks as I think about the kiss I gave Wells this morning. Was it the last time his lips touched mine?

            “Is everyone else hearing this signal?” asks Monty a few moments later.

            “Just keep your eyes open,” answers Raven.

            “I think it’s the same thing we heard in the black box,” says Monty.

            Those words make me want to pull my hair out and scream in horror. Monty is literally in the danger zone.

            I hear the rest of the correspondence. They found someone but not everyone due to Bellamy’s tone of his voice and it seems like Monty vanished. The Mountain Men have captured Monty. There is nothing else to explain it.

            When Raven comes back, saying something about making a stretcher, I ask: “Wells?”

            Raven just bows her head before giving me the answer: “I’m sorry, Costia. We found Myles but we couldn’t find Clarke and Wells. They were captured.”

            I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Wells went out there with Clarke in a hostile environment and for some reason it didn’t cross my mind that this would happen. I feel my eyes prickling with tears. This is my fault. I should have convinced him to not go out there. It will be my fault for not protecting him from my people. Things have escalated and I didn’t ensure his safety.

            I open my eyes and say. “Okay. That’s all I needed to know.”

 

* * *

 

            Minutes later, Octavia and Raven carry Myles in a stretcher and into the Dropship. From the looks of it he was shot in the shoulder and the knee with arrows. One arrow is in the shoulder while one was taken from the knee.

            As I lead Athena away from camp to tie her to a tree, I say to the walkie. “ _Two of them have been captured by our own while hunting. One was captured by the Mountain. The others are building fox holes and grenades_.”

            “ _If they are preparing for a fight, they will get one tomorrow_ ,” he says.

            “ _So there will be a defensive attack?_ ” I ask, knowing full well that it was going to happen since Anya couldn’t do it herself.

            “ _I will be sending out scouts in the morning to trap them in_ ,” he answers. “ _We will be marching to your location two hours after noontide. Be back at the village two hours before then_.”

            “ _What should I do_?” I ask.

            “ _Go where they keep their weapons and barricade yourself in there until when you have to go_ ,” he answers. “ _That should halt any progress they are making with weapons. If anyone is in there when you enter, kill that person_.”

            So, the plan is to keep them short on weapons so that they wouldn’t gain the upper hand, and in turn reveal myself. That this mission is over for me.

            “ _The mission is void_?” I ask.

            “ _Yes_ ,” I hear. “ _I am proud by what you accomplished and the Commander would be proud as well. See you soon_.”

            “ _I will see you soon_ ,” I say. I tie Athena to a tree and walk back to camp. He said to barricade myself where they keep their weapons. That would be the Dropship. They have ammunition but not enough to fight against an army of three hundred and yesterday Jasper was working with gun powder for something. I could use that to escape.

            Everyone is working on something when I get to the center and Bellamy leaves the Dropship and I wait for a few seconds until I ascend the ramp. After passing through the curtain, I see Myles lying on the table, groaning in pain.

            I put my sword and quiver of arrows against the wall before walking the table’s length. Father said to kill anyone who was in the weapons stronghold and since Myles was here, I have to kill him.

            “I want water,” I hear him groan. I tilt my head. I ponder for a moment. It wouldn’t be right to kill someone unable to defend themselves but I can’t disobey an order from my General, the same man as my father. I think about it. I only made emotional attachment to a handful of the Sky People and Myles wasn’t one of them. No, it’s not going to affect me greatly. Since he’s in pain, I would also be putting him out his misery.

            I grab a cellophane bag and with shaking hands, put it on his face; pressing the plastic to his nostrils to block his airways. His response is immediate. He raises his hands and hits me in the arms and in the torso only to have me apply more pressure to his nasal airways. He kicks his legs.

            I look down at the flailing delinquent and say, “ _Yu gonplei ste odon_.”

            His struggles weaken before they stop, signifying his death. As I remove the cellophane from his face, I hear someone climbing down the ladder and I turn to see that it’s Jasper, his eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion.

            No, no, no! I don’t want to kill Jasper too.

            My heart races as I set aside the plastic with my sweaty hands. “I was only trying to help him,” I lie, my voice shaky. “He couldn’t breathe.”

            Jasper nods slightly and continues descending down the ladder, though he eyes something and I see that he’s looking at a assault rifle lying on a table. My people have reservations against guns since they cause more damage but if I let him get the rifle, everything would go more downhill if it hasn’t already.

            I look at Jasper before rushing to the assault rifle and I point it downward at him as soon as he reaches ground level. The thing feels strange and alien in my hands since I’m used to handling spears, knives, swords, and bows.

Jasper backs away a little before putting his hand up as if trying to stop me. “Costia, put the gun down,” says Jasper

            I look at Jasper, the blood pounding in my hands as I’m trying to steady my shaking hands. “Just so you know, I had no choice,” I say shakily. “I had to kill him.”

            Jasper backs away so I raise the rifle at him. “And don’t move!” I order.

            “Okay,” Jasper rasps, with his palm still outstretched. “Okay. It’s cool.”

            I shake my head. “Incorrect choice of words, Jasper,” I say. It shouldn’t matter but for good measure to keep up my crumbling façade, I say: “You know what will happen to me if you tell Bellamy.”

            I hear static from a walkie before I hear Bellamy ask, “Tell Bellamy what?”

            Jasper doesn’t have a walkie in his hands but that doesn’t mean it’s not in his pockets. “Jasper, be a friend and give me the radio,” I say.

            I watch Jasper closely as he removed the walkie from his pocket with his free hand and quickly, he puts it to his mouth, “Costia has a gun. She’s killed Myl –

            I ram the butt of the rifle against Jasper’s temple, knocking him out.

            “Costia, what the hell are you doing?” I hear Bellamy demand from the walkie as I approach the lever they use to close and open the door with. I pull up the lever and a hissing sound emits from the ship. I watch as the door rises.

            “Costia!” I hear Bellamy shout. “Costia! Open the damn door!”

            “If you decide to be a hero, your friend dies!” I threaten as the door closed. I am not serious as I’ll never kill Jasper. I’ll hold him hostage but I’ll never kill him.

            I put down the gun and drag him to the wall. I gag him using a belt and tie his hands behind his back using another belt. Once he’s restrained I go to my provisions bag and turn on adjust the walkie to channel b. “ _The task has been successful_ ,” I say. “ _There is no way they will continue progress_.”

 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter concludes the s1 arc of this story.

            “ _Good_ ,” father answers. “ _They should barely make by when you leave the invaders’ camp_.”

            “ _Anything going on that I should be made aware of_ ,” I ask curiously.

            “ _Two of the prisoners in Anya’s custody escaped execution_ ,” father answers. “ _Someone used the signal pit ten minutes ago and Anya suspects that it was used as a distraction to cover their tracks_.”

            Since Wells and Clarke were captured, it has to be them. My heart is lifted at the idea that Wells is alive. Thank goodness.

            “ _Any suspicions who_?” I ask, even though I knew the answer. It had to Lincoln, because who else would it be?

            “ _We can’t think of anyone aside from Lincoln who would do that_ ,” he answers. “ _We will try to go after them. I will check back with you in a few hours_.”

            “ _Sure thing_ ,” I answer before putting down the walkie. I go over and sit on a stool; propping the rifle next to the stool before sitting down and picking up my sword; I run a whetstone against the blade, sharpening it.

            I could read instead but now’s not the right time nor do I have the mindset. I thought I hear someone beat on the door, like they think it could open up like that. It continues for a minute before stopping.

            Looking at the walkie, I think about that piece of information I heard earlier. Did Wells and Clarke escape pursuit with Lincoln or were they recaptured? Hopefully it’s not the latter, as it could mean Wells’ death. If it’s the former, I want these people to know that Wells should leave the camp before sundown. That he should take Charlotte, Raven, and Jasper with him if he’s able to.

            Speaking of Jasper, I see his eyes begin to open before he lifts his head. His eyes widen before he begins to struggle.

            “Calm down,” I say. “You’ll only cause rope burns if you keep doing that.”

            The belt is probably biting into his skin but if I want to keep out of trouble, he has to stay restrained and gagged. I wish he wasn’t bound and gagged but that’s better than killing him.

            I don’t know how long it’s been (it feels like hours passed) before hearing static from my walkie. I pick it up and ask, “ _Well_?”

            “ _The prisoners escaped with Lincoln to the Reaper tunnels_ ,” father answers.

            “ _The Reaper tunnels_?” I ask, horrified comprehension setting in. He’s going to get them killed. Not to mention attract attention from the Mountain Men. I wouldn’t put it past them to place hidden cameras in those tunnels. “ _Why there_?”

            “ _So we wouldn’t follow them_ ,” says father. “ _Even if they survive the tunnels, they are going to die tonight anyway_.”

            Wells isn’t going to die. Not tonight. Not ever.

            “ _How many hours until I leave my location_?” I ask.

            “ _One and a half_ ,” he answers.

            Shortly after I end that correspondence, outside Octavia shouts, “Costia! Costia, if you even touch Jasper, I swear to God you’re dead!”

            I turn look at Jasper’s frightened gaze and say to him, “I’m not going to kill you. It’s not my intention.”

            His eyes linger to Myles’ corpse on the table, like he’s not sure what to think. I might as well cover the corpse so he won’t see it. As I approach the table to cover his corpse, I hear Bellamy say from Jasper’s walkie, “Costia, I know you can hear me. All our ammo is in the middle level. You know that. You’re leaving us vulnerable to an attack. Unless that’s your intention.”

            After covering Myles’s corpse, I pick up the walkie and answer, “We know who’s in control here right now and it’s not you.”

            “Come on, Costia,” answers Bellamy. “You don’t want to hurt Jasper. You were like a friend to him and deep down to you it’s the same for you.”

            I look at Jasper. While I wasn’t close to him like I was to Wells, he is like a friend. He reminds me of my brother anyway.

            “So what do you say?” Bellamy asks. “How about you trade him for me?”

            Where is he going with this? Just because I don’t like keeping Jasper in this situation that doesn’t mean I want Bellamy too. What about Octavia?

            “All you have to do is let him go and I’ll take his place,” continues Bellamy.

            Looking at Jasper, I could easily see the horror in his eyes; like he doesn’t want Bellamy to do this. Why is Bellamy doing this anyway? Does he think I’m upset with the incident involving Lincoln and the bridge bombing and he thinks I want reparations? Or is he doing this because he thinks he can reason with me?

            “How?” I ask, my voice hollow.

            After a few seconds, he answers, “Simple. You open the door, I walk in, he walks out.”

            I take a deep breath. If it’s what Bellamy wants I’ll give it to him. I go over to Jasper and lead him to the door before removing the restraints and I push down the lever. The ramp descends down and from outside, I thought I can hear rifles clicking bullets into place.

            “Just you, Bellamy!” I shout. “No weapons!”

            After a few seconds, Bellamy shouts, “I’m here!”

            He walks through the curtain and I say to Jasper, “Go!”

            Jasper runs out and I pull up the lever once I know he’s out.

            “Hands behind your back and turn around,” I instruct.

            Bellamy complies and I bound his hands together behind his hands with a belt before sitting him down. I keep my eyes on him as I go by the weapons.

            “You don’t have to do this,” says Bellamy. “You have helped us during the past three weeks on how to survive. You can help us how to fight them. Tell us what to do.”

            It was the latter. How does that not surprise me? If only it was easy but I would be betraying my clan and by extension my father, my sister, and my brother.

            I snort. “It’s not that simple,” I say. “None of it’s simple. Also, what you’re asking of me is going to result in me betraying my clan, especially my father.”

            “What does this have to do with your father?” Bellamy asks. “He’s a woodsman. You said it yourself.”

            “Thing is, not everything I told you was the truth,” I say, sitting on the stool; propping the rifle on my lap.

            Bellamy’s eyes narrow. “So, you lied to us the entire time?” he demands, though I could tell there was subtle rage in his tone.

            “Not everything was a lie,” I say. “Where I told you where I was going when my wagon broke down? That was a lie. My father being a woodsman? That was a lie. Me helping you surviving this radioactive and toxic planet was only a façade.”

            “They sent you to spy on us the moment we reached the ground,” he deduces.

            “The Commander was with my father and Anya when she saw the Dropship drop from the sky,” I answer. “Her advisor advocated for a preemptive strike but luckily for you, she didn’t want my father’s troops to launch a attack. She wanted to be sure that you were not a threat and she sent several people to watch you from the outside while she sent me to be on the inside.”

            “Why you –” he says, trying to get out of his restraints.

            “Everything was going well the first week and had Clarke listened to Wells and had you not kidnapped Lincoln, you would have had only two more weeks to prove your peace until we integrate you into our clan,” I say. “Now with what’s happened, it’s not possible and since the bridge bombing resulted in Anya’s failure in a attack, my father is going to come with several hundred warriors.”

            “If your father is not a woodsman, what was he?” asks Bellamy.

            “He’s the military leader of our clan but I decided not to give you that information because you would use it to your advantage,” I say.

            “I should have listened to Clarke,” says Bellamy. “I was a fool for trusting you.”

            “Not only did you trust me, but you underestimated my clan,” I say. “It never crossed your mind that they would send someone to infiltrate you to determine that you can be trusted. Now that my mission is void, I’m just holding you up from progress. We can’t have too many casualties during the harvest season.”

            “What about Wells?” Bellamy demands. “Is he expendable to you now that you have revealed yourself?”

            The blood rushes to my face at those words.

            “He gave you his trust from the moment he saw you,” says Bellamy. “And you callously misused it in favor of deceiving this camp into trusting you with their lives.”

            It was like a ball was dropped on my heart and I feel the tears well up. He’s right: Wells placed his trust in me when he saw me and I took him for granted not knowing I was going to become attached. Not knowing that he would become more than a friend to me.

            “I never intended to become attached,” I answer. “That wasn’t part of my mission.”

            “But he’s going to die,” says Bellamy.

            I hear someone sneeze from below. Someone’s down there. I pick up the rifle. Not that I’m going to kill anyone. I just want to scare that person.

            “What are you doing?” Bellamy demands as I point the gun at the source. “Costia, put the gun down! You don’t know what you’re doing!”

            “I’m just going to scare them,” I say before pulling the trigger. The gun goes off and the bullet goes through the floorboards.

            I don’t hear a thump so I assume that that person is still alive. I turn to Bellamy and say, “Do something for me. Tell Wells to leave before my father gets here. In fact, tell him to take Raven, Clarke, Jasper, and Charlotte.”

            “Out of eighty four, you only want to save six?” he demands.

            “You said yourself that you don’t want to imagine what my clan does to traitors,” I answer.

            I hear the mechanical hissing and the door begins to open. What? How? I…

            I grab my weapons and my provisions bag before quickly ascending the ladder. My pulse pounds in my hands as I close the hatch door and lock it with a pole. Up here, everything is closed up from the top. With no escape exit.

            Dammit.

            My arrows and sword will be useless and looking through the bullets I doubt that they can even break the metal of the Dropship.

            “Costia!” I hear Bellamy shout. “Costia, it’s over! Give it up!”

            As I hear him ascend the ladder, my eyes find the can of gunpowder. What are the chances of me shooting a arrow at that can?

            “Costia!” Bellamy shouts, as I hear him trying to bust the door open. I look at the gunpowder before looking at my arrows. The attempt could kill me but what choice do I have.

            My shaking hand removes a arrow from a quiver and I pull it back with the bowstring. I take a deep breath and close my eyes before letting the arrow fly.

            I duck and cover my eyes with my arms just as the can explodes, debris flying through the room. I gaze up to see that I made a gaping hole on the wall of the ship. There goes their gunpowder.

            I take my sword and quiver before jumping from the hole. The descent was painful but I wasn’t injured to the point where I can’t run. I run with my weapons in hand, only looking back for a few seconds to see Bellamy and Jasper peering from the hole.

            I resume running and stop to strap on my quiver and sheathed sword before untying Athena. I quickly mount on her before I beckon to gallop away from here and towards the village.

 

* * *

 

            “Costia’s back!” someone shouts as Athena trots through the gates. I see a few horses – noticeably Anya’s horse Helios and father’s white horse Hermes – being assembled outside the stable; people placing barding on horses preparing them for battle.

            Father and Anya run from the house and father guides me into the house with his hand on my shoulder and Anya taking my arm.

            “Sorry I’m early,” I say. “Something came up.”

            “It’s alright, says father. “You still have time to prepare for battle. However, don’t take your time as we have to get there by nightfall.”

            I look at Anya. “Tris?”

            Anya bows her shoulders and her eyes become glassy but she maintains her strong exterior. “She was brave,” is all she could manage. “She had gone out nobly.”

            Father glances at Anya; expression stoic yet I could see in his eyes that he wants to say something but can’t find the right words at the moment.

            Tris was in battle with me once five years ago, when she was seven. She was able to take down five warriors twice her size in her first and final day at battle. Even after the ceasefire there was a spark in her that would refuse to die. I could imagine that she tried to fight death during her last moments. Because the strongest among us don’t want to succumb to death without a fight.

            _I’m sorry_ , is all I could think because I can’t bring myself to say it.

            I run up the stairs and throw open my bedroom door. I quickly remove my weapons, my trench coat, mother’s necklace (albeit with gentle care before placing it back in it’s wooden box) and vest before opening the wardrobe next to my closet where my armor is kept. My hands shake as I wrap the stomach guard around my torso and put on my chest plate. I keep my fingers steady as I apply the kneepads. Then I put on my battle trench coat with the shoulder and arm pads.

            I pick up my headpiece and gaze at it. The only things visible would be my eyes though they will undoubtedly recognize the shape of my eyes. Hopefully Wells will be gone before we burst through the gate.

            There is the unfortunate fact that I will have to take part in the battle by killing. One hundred arrived three weeks ago and as of now eighty-four of that number are alive. Of that eighty-four I made emotional connections to only a handful of them.

            I will not touch Miller, Murphy, Jasper, Raven, Charlotte, Clarke, and Wells. Murphy drives me insane but I don’t want to kill him. With Monty captured by the Mountain Men, I don’t have to worry about him getting killed. I will only kill those who I have little to no emotional attachment to. Yeah, I’ll only kill those people.

            After heaving a sigh, I pull on my headpiece and adjust it.

            I dash down the stairs and go outside. I see the gates open and in comes the harvesting crews with their wagons; coming here for a lunch break. My sister among them.

            Bristol jumps out the wagon with her bow in hand. She looks at the warriors getting their weapons ready and lowers her head. I guess she’s been dreading this since everything exploded and went downhill. I didn’t want the situation to reach this point either.

            I approach the well and fill my water container. I screw the lid on tight and head to the food store, which is teeming with people getting ready for tonight’s bloodbath.

            Inside, my brother sorts the crates, looking sullen and sulky. What did he do to get assigned food stock detail?

            “In case you are wondering, he and seven others forgot to replenish their provisions bag yesterday and they ran out of food by the time they camped out by the river,” says Cole. “Your father got on their case for it, saying that they should know better than to leave their supplies low.”

            Yes, especially in October.

 

* * *

 

            When it was after noontide, it was when the battle formation – consisting of three hundred warriors, with Anya, father, and myself included – began to leave the village. Due to my Nightblood status, I was situated in the back with father, Anya, and ten others as to increase my chance of survival.

            Most of us were on foot though a select ten were on horseback, myself included.

            I look back at the gate, remembering the goodbyes that were said to Bristol and Nigel and the skepticism from Bristol.

            “This enemy is different then Ice Nation,” Bristol said to father just minutes ago. “They are like the Mountain Men. Maybe worse.”

            “There are over three hundred of us and only eighty-four of them,” he answered. “They should be more worried about us then us worrying about them.”

            “You will come back though, won’t you?” My brother asked hopefully.

            “We’ll be back, and you and I will spend a day with a harvest crew,” I assured him. “Trying to find the biggest and plumpest wild turkey we can find.”

            Looking back at that conversation, it eerily feels like it was the last conversation soldiers have with their families. It better not be.

            “By then the scouts should be there,” says father. “Reckon that the two escaped prisoners tried warning the others?”

            “There is no chance they are leaving that area,” says Anya. “If they tried, they would be forced back anyway.”

            I think about Wells and his odds of leaving before we get there. He’s smart that he would figure a way out how.

            As we proceed to the site, I keep looking at the position of the sun. My stomach twisting into a knot and the blood pounding in my fingertips. Every time the sun changes position, the closer we are to our destination.

            The image of Wells lying on the ground, his lifeless eyes open as blood pours from the wound where my sword left his body. It shouldn’t become reality.

            From a distance, we see wagons returning from a harvest expedition or on their way to a harvesting location. Just a regular harvest day for them. They don’t have to worry about possibly killing someone they care about.

            I keep my eyes on the sun, watching as it slowly moves across the sky. Here I am, marching with my fellow Trikru towards a battlefield while Wells is in the battlefield, obviously helping the others getting ready for our attack.

            Did Bellamy inform him of my treachery or did Lincoln tell him and Clarke as he helped them escape through the Reaper tunnels? Is there a chance he’s dead, that he doesn’t know? That the Reapers killed him?

            If he’s alive, does he hate me for my betrayal? He forgave his best friend for hating him and treating him like dirt but that’s because he felt like he was trying to preserve relationship between a mother and daughter. They say blissful ignorance is actually harmful but I guess I would rather not though. Though I should investigate tomorrow when everything has died down.

            “What are you thinking?” father asks me. “You have been quiet.”

            “Just how everything has escalated since three weeks ago,” I lie, though it’s obvious how everything has escalated. “When I woke up that morning, I could never imagine that a small ship could result in this. I’m hoping that everything is a dream.”

            “Costia, I wish the same thing,” says father. “I didn’t want it to reach this point either. However, if we don’t address this threat, it’s going to put everyone in this territory at risk. Unfortunate yes but necessary.

            “I don’t want this as much as you do,” says Anya. “In fact none of us wished this into being.”

            I didn’t wish this into being. I made some good friends back there, one more closer to me than the others and I don’t want to be responsible for their deaths. Yet, they will see me kill their acquaintances and will hate me more.

            Unfortunately it doesn’t take long for the sun to dip below the horizon and the site of one of the scouts is indication enough that we reached our destination. One could taste the tension and the eagerness of the crowd. I don’t doubt that there are those who felt like their weapons have been thirsty and five years overdue for it’s quench of blood. For the first time it horrifies me to see those people in action.

            The knot in my stomach has become completely uncomfortable as I hear the war drums. Father and Anya get off their horses and I follow suit; attaching my provisions bag to Athena’s bard before taking out the radio.

            “Bought this with me,” I say. “So we would know that they ran out of bullets.”

            I switch the channel over to the main one; Bryson, Vance, and a few others crowd around us as we hear static.

            “I see them,” Murphy says from the radio. “They’re moving. I count one, two, three. No, like there’s four. I don’t know. There’s too damn many of them.”

            We hear gunshots from a distance. The scouts are doing their work then.

            “South foxhole,” I hear Bellamy. “South foxhole, report now!”

            “Yeah, we’re okay,” says Murphy. “They didn’t attack. It’s like shooting a ghost.”

            More gunshots ring out after a few seconds.

            “The longer they keep falling for it, they’ll run dry of bullets,” says father. “That will make it easier for us. They will not live past fifteen minutes.”

            That’s what’s scary, as I have seen enemy warrior encampments not lasting even ten minutes due to the raids led by father.

            The correspondence is scratchy and for a few minutes gunshots ring through the air.

            _Boom!_

            We hear someone scream followed by the sound of sparks. Anya’s eyes widen and father narrows his own eyes in disbelief.

            “Raven, your mines actually work!” I hear Jasper exclaim from the radio.

            Mines? How did that escape my attention? My mind must have been on Wells and what was expected from me that I never found out.

            “Jasper, we need you in the Dropship right now,” says Clarke from the radio.

            “Negative,” Bellamy replies to her. “We can’t give up the west woods.”

            “The west woods are mined, Bellamy,” says Clarke. “The Grounders just figured that out. Jasper, get in here.”

            Anya looks at father, her body frozen.

            Father turns to me before grabbing my shoulder. “You didn’t tell us about the mines,” he says, his tone dripping with disappointment and disbelief.

            “They didn’t tell me,” I say. “Of course I’m not going to tell you something I don’t know, father. I would never hide anything.”

            Father thinks about it for a second before softening his expression and letting me go. From a distance, is the sound of a gunshot followed by a mine exploding.

            “All gunners, listen up,” says Jasper from the radio. “The Grounders are not attacking. They’re making us waste bullets. Don’t shoot when they’re running laterally.”

            “Jasper’s right,” says Bellamy. “Don’t fire until you’re sure it’s attack. Repeat, do not fire until you are sure.”

            “Clarke, hang tight,” says Jasper. “I’m on my way.”

            I place the walkie back into the bag when father says, “We should avoid the west woods to their camp. If they want an attack, we’ll give them one. Right now, we attack.”

            I am the first to follow him followed by Anya and then the procession to battle begins. I could feel the adrenaline run through my body but it’s not the kind of adrenaline caused by battle nostalgia.

            It’s adrenaline caused by fear and anxiety.

            Father gives the signal and that’s when the running starts and I could hear war cries. Most by anger and others by anticipation. Like chess pieces, the most valuable fighters wait for their turn to begin running to battle.

            Then, it’s my turn to run, the second to last group running towards the target. With the General and his Lieutenant right behind us.

            The sword shakes in its sheath, though not as hard as my heart is pounding. If it doesn’t explode, I’ll be lucky.

            _Wells, please don’t be here. Please don’t be here._

            Some of us fall to flying bullets but it doesn’t halt us. I could see the gate in great detail. We have them surrounded. Everyone behind that wall is doomed.

            Something explodes in the sky. Everything stops. I look up at the sky to see a yellow ball. Glowing brightly against the nighttime sky and descending. There is surprised gasping and from my peripheral vision, father and Anya’s eyes widen in shock.

            As soon as the ball breaks up to produce a shower of debris, the shock on their faces is quickly replaced by hardened expressions.

            “Reinforcements,” says Anya.

            “When they get here, they won’t find anyone alive,” says father, breathless from the adrenaline in his system. He then shouts in command, “Take down the gate!”

            As the grappling hooks are taken out, we hear yelling and hooting from a distance. All of us turn. The hairs in the back of my neck rise and everything goes numb. No, no. it can’t be –

            “Reapers!” shouts my father.

            I see two people running – Lincoln and Wells – into view with the Reapers right behind them and they turn the other direction.

Wells! He’s alive! Relief floods my body. But what is he still doing here? He should have left by now. Relief is instantly replaced by anxiety.

The Reapers keep running until they stop at the sight of us.

            There are roughly twenty of them while there are three hundred and twenty of us. I pull out my sword, as do several others who haven’t taken out their weapons. The Reapers stare at us with one growling at us.

            Then, the stare off ends. We rush to them and then they run to us. Bodies collide and blades meet flesh and muscle. I impale the nearest Reaper with my sword before doing the same to another. Close by, father and Anya are taking on Reapers; both of them killing three in the time it took for the first one to fall to the ground.

            I kill my fourth Reaper before he could devour one of my fellow warriors. My sword is coated in blood when I take it out of its corpse and I take a deep breath.

            Due to our numbers, the fight doesn’t last long. It’s probably been three minutes when father kills the last Reaper.

            He looks towards the gate and shouts, “Now to the wall!” He raises his sword and points it in the direction of the wall. We rush to our target. Some of the Delinquents are shooting from the wall but arrows take them down in less than a second.

            Two of the fifty scouts sent earlier come on horseback and the grapple hooks are connected to their bards. It only takes two tugs from the horses to bring the gate down.

            “Use the grenades!” someone shouts as the first few pass through the gap.

            _I will only kill those who I have no emotional attachment to_ , I repeat to myself. Anyone who I grow sentimental to I would ignore.

            A grenade explodes before it’s my cue to enter. I hop over the bodies of people that were killed by the grenade as I hear Clarke shout, “All right, Jasper did it. Everybody get inside now.”

            I’m relieved that I didn’t see Wells, Charlotte, and Raven outside. One of the Delinquents thought it was a smart idea to remove the sword from my hands by the blade. I twisted it out of his grip before slashing him in the throat. His friend rushes forward before I impale him too.

            The pulse vibrates in every core of my body and I could feel the adrenaline making me feel like I’m air.

            A Delinquent collides his rifle with the blade of my sword. But I impale him before he even thinks to shoot me.

            “Bellamy, run!” I hear Clarke yell. I feel someone coming from behind and I turn, impaling that person before I could see who it is. Just another Delinquent I don’t know.

            I turn to see Bellamy running towards my father, pointing a rifle at him with nothing coming out while father charges at him. That idiot! He’s going to get killed by doing that. Bellamy dodges a swipe from the sword before father punches him in the face. I contemplate stopping it but it wouldn’t be a wise decision.

            A fifth Delinquent that I don’t know runs at me but she’s no match for my sword. I slash her throat and she crumples to the ground like a rag doll.

            I hear a gunshot and whip around to see Finn running at father with a rifle in hand. I feel my blood reach my hands, neck, and face. That asshat’s going to regret that move.

            “No! Finn! No!” Clarke yells out.

            Finn rams into my father and uses his body to push him to the ground. I grab Finn by the collar of his jacket and throw him on his back.

            “That’s my father, you insidious son of a bitch!” I yell, my voice slightly muffled from the mouth guard. I get on top of him and place my forearm on his neck. Finn grabs my arm but I grab his left arm and put it above his head before using my foot to pin down his right arm. I add slight pressure to his neck, looking at his eyes as I do. I’m going to keep adding pressure until I see the life leave his eyes. I’ll kill anyone who attacks my father.

            Finn’s pulse increases and I see the eyes begin to roll to the back of his head when I hear Anya scream in anger and frustration. I look to see her jump into Dropship just as its closing the door.

            “Anya!” father shouts as the door closes shut. Everyone drops what they are going and crowd at the door. I get off of Finn and join the crowd, which has grown in size and began pounding on the door.

            “Get that door open!” father shouts. The ones closest to it keep pounding it with axes, spiked clubs, and other weapons while others use their fingers. At this rate, the door is going to open because of the amount of pressure.

            I thought I see Bellamy and Finn running from the corner of my eye before a horrible feeling sets in. I back away from the crowd before father grabs me, puts me over his shoulders, and runs to the entrance of the camp.

            Looking back as we have passed through the entrance, I see a flash of orange from the ship before flames erupt; gulfing nearly everyone in its path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter concludes the season one arc for this story. Canonically season one ended with the forty-eight surviving Delinquents being captured by Mount Weather and the Arkers’ first glimpse of the ground but that’s because The 100 is a story about the Sky People. This fanfiction is mainly about the Woods Clan and for them, season one would have ended with the Ring of Fire.
> 
> If I could offer one semblance of hope, Wells is still alive.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the season 2 arc begins. With Wells and Costia in the picture, things will change and things will stay the same. As for spoilers, expect a twist for the 2x15 segment. Lexa is a Slytherin Queen after all.

The camp is nothing but flames. Smoke and burning flesh and bone fill the nighttime air. The odor is strong and rancid to make one’s hair curl. We move as far as we can to get away from the camp though we watch black smoke rise from the camp.

            Overhead is a soft clap of thunder. A thunderstorm is coming which means that the rain will douse the flames.

            “ _We should wait until the flames die down, then go back_ ,” suggests Beaufort.

            “ _No, There’s only nineteen of us_ ,” says father. “ _We won’t last long against their numbers. We underestimated their capabilities_.”

            “ _There’s Anya to be accounted for_ ,” I remind father.

            “ _Anya may be alive but as you said, the Mountain captured one of them yesterday and they are going to investigate the missing Reapers_ ,” father says somberly. “ _You should be out of here before their rovers arrive tomorrow morning. I’m going to TonDC to report to the Commander and tell Indra what has happened. Tommen, Amherst, come with me_.”

            He turns to leave but I follow him. “ _But Anya! We can’t just leave her there_.”

            Father abruptly turns around. “ _There is nothing we can do about it. Once the Mountain has them in their possession, there is no way they will survive_.”

            I am about to open my mouth, to protest that earlier he wanted to get Anya out of the Dropship no matter what it took. That we don’t leave our people behind to die but while I’m his daughter first, I’m his subordinate second and in this circumstance, arguing with him would be insubordination.

            He softens up and puts his hand on my shoulder. “ _I understand that you don’t want to leave Anya behind and if I could bring reinforcements for a rescue mission and finish off the remaining enemy, I would but it’s certain that the Mountain Men will arrive and that’s nothing we can control_.”

            I sigh. I don’t want to leave Anya behind but father does have a point. The Mountain Men will come here to investigate the disappearance of the Reapers and because they captured Monty. That we would be put in an even more compromising situation.

            “ _Tommen, Amherst, we’re going to TonDC to inform the Commander what has happened while the thirteen of you either return back to the village or look for survivors_ ,” he orders. “ _Take them prisoner if you see any and you must leave the vicinity at dawn before the Mountain Men arrive. If anyone asks about the ships that landed just now, tell them to proceed with caution_.”

            He walks away accompanied with two of the rangers in his unit. It starts sprinkling when we hear their horses gallop away. I might as well look for survivors just to see if Wells is alive but Nigel and Bristol need assurance that father and I are alive.

            “ _I’m going to go back to the village to inform people that our General is alive, that Anya is unaccounted for_ ,” I say.

            “ _I will go with you_ ,” says Ramsay. “ _Someone needs to tell Quint about what happened to his brother_.”

            Quint is the chief strategy advisor to the clan’s warrior higher ups. He has a younger brother in father’s unit and apparently he was burned alive just now. It’s good that Ramsay is going to tell him because I’d rather not due to his temper regarding disagreeable situations.

            I, Ramsay, Beaufort, and five others decide to go back to the village to give the bad news while the others look for survivors to take captive. I untie Athena from the tree and mount on her before looking back at the black smoke rising from the camp.

            Three hundred gone. All in under a minute. As bad as it was, it wasn’t as bad as the Battle of Gara, where we lost four hundred fifty years ago; Gara is the capitol of Azgeda.

            The fact that Anya is back there weighs heavy on my heart as well. I shake the reins, beckoning her to go. Everything is going downhill, especially with the idea that more Sky People have come down before the Reapers distracted us.

 

* * *

 

            Half of the village is awake when we arrive back. It’s not surprising since when an army departs for battle, people usually stay up to get the first news. It’s going to be disappointing for them to see that only a handful out of the three hundred and twenty have arrived back.

            When the gates open, one could tell that the mood changed from eagerness to somberness. Seeing the expressions on their faces, they know what’s happened. Nigel runs from the house and towards me.

            “ _What happened_?” he asks me, looking concerned. “ _Is father still alive_?”

            “ _Yeah_ ,” I say, nodding. “ _He’s alive. He’s going to TonDC with two riders to inform the Commander what happened_.”

            “ _You left with over three hundred_ ,” Quint says, appearing to have walked outside. “ _There are nine of you_.”

            “ _Apparently we underestimated the Sky People_ ,” says Ramsay. “ _They burned three hundred of the three hundred and twenty of us alive. The General left with two to report the loss to the Commander. The nine of us returned while seven remained o find prisoners_.”

            I hear outraged murmurs among the crowd, the most notable being “ _Death to the Sky People!_ ”

I see someone emerge from the crowd and see that it’s Kyra. “ _What about Anya_?”

I sigh. “ _The night before, one of them was captured by the Mountain Men and Lincoln and Finn bought the Reapers to district us. Anya went inside the ship just before the fire. It will not be long before the Mountain Men approach their camp_.

“ _Since more Sky People have come down, my father says to proceed with caution_ ,” I answer. “ _We can’t lose any more people due to harvest_.”

When Quint inquiries about his brother, Bran, I leave the area with Nigel accompanying me. I don’t want to be around to see him explode.

“ _You saw the burning ships too_?” Nigel asks me as we pass through the front door of our house.

“ _Father and Anya thought that they were reinforcements_ ,” I say. “ _Whatever it was, more Sky People have set foot_.”

Some of the ships have probably landed in Ice Nation, which would be worse case scenario. They wouldn’t survive for long. If some landed in Broadleaf Clan territory, well, they would be lucky as the members of that clan focus their attention on farming and fishing.

Bristol stands at the top of the stairs, her knit shall wrapped around her blue nightgown; her dark brown hair cascading down her shoulders. “ _What happened? Where’s father_?”

“ _Father’s alive but we lost_ ,” I answer.

“ _I knew it_ ,” she says. “ _What did they do_?”

“ _Burned three hundred in a ring of fire_ ,” I answer, still seeing the gruesome image of Trikru warriors being caught in flames even as they tried to run. The stench of burning flesh and bone still sticks in my nose. I wonder whose idea was it but it certainly wasn’t Wells’s idea.

I decide that I don’t want to know who it was that thought of it in the process.

 

* * *

 

I sleep fitfully that night. In my head the image of my fellow Trikru warriors burned alive followed by my thoughts regarding Wells. Was he away from the camp before the ring of fire erupted or was he in the Dropship before we took down the gate and while the Ring of Fire happened? If it’s the latter he’s going to be captured by the Mountain Men along with his surviving peers and Anya.

I was concerned that the Mountain Men would try to integrate them into their society but that’s what happened with some members of my clan before the experimentation began following by the reaping of people. The Delinquents’ comfort there will not last long when Mount Weather’s leadership will decide to drain them of blood due to their immunity of the radiation.

Considering the effort to annihilate us using the Acid Fog and treating us like disposable blood bags, in their minds they couldn’t afford letting a different brand of blood bag sit around without being drained.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, I change into a set of clothes before putting my nightgown with yesterdays’ clothes in my laundry bag. When I make a trip to the laundry cabin, one could taste the tension in the air and it seems like things might explode if something happens.

The laundry cabin is full of stream due to the warm water and I could see Sebastian and Astrid scrubbing clothes with the scrubbing boards; plants swimming in the water.

“ _Morning_ ,” I greet, setting my bag on a hook next to the other bags with clothes waiting for their turn.

“ _Are you thinking of going out hunting_?” Sebastian asks me, rubbing his hands with cloth.

“ _Not that I’m sure_ ,” I answer with a shrug.

“ _Due to the fact that more Sky People arrived last night, the Village Council has forbidden solo hunting trips until further notice and harvesting crews are to bring two more details of security_ ,” he answers.

That wouldn’t surprise me after what happened last night but rarely anyone goes on solo hunting trips as it’s strongly recommended that you bring someone with you. Mainly because of the threat of the Reapers and the Mountain Men.

“ _Okay, that doesn’t surprise me_ ,” I say before slipping out of the laundry cabin so I can get breakfast. Today’s menu: biscuits, mashed potatoes, scrambled eggs, and pork. During harvest, portions slightly increase as people might need extra calories for going on hunting expeditions.

It doesn’t take long to find my brother and sister at the canteen; both of them eating breakfast.

“ _Have any plans for today_?” I ask them.

“ _Not that I know of_ ,” Nigel says with a sigh as he runs his fork through his breakfast.

“ _My hunting group is going to the cornstalk trees after breakfast_ ,” answers Bristol. “ _Are you interested in coming or are you going to be in checkpoints_?”

Actually, my mind is elsewhere. I could do something.

“ _I was thinking of going back to the area of last night’s battle to check up on the situation_ ,” I say. “ _The Mountain Men have most likely left there by now_.”

“ _What do you expect to find there_?” Bristol asks, raising her eyebrow. “ _No one is allowed to go out alone either_.”

“ _I’m not going alone_.” I look at Nigel. “ _Want to go check on something with me_?”

“ _Well, it’s something that doesn’t involve vegetating in here_ ,” he answers with a shrug.

I hear someone run into the canteen and I look to see Foster, one of the watchtower guards, pant in exhaustion. “ _There’s something that looks to be two hours away from here_.”

Curiosity compels me to leave the canteen and follow Foster to the watchtower he was at. When I get up there, I see Abram look at something through a telescope and I pick up a second telescope to get a better look. I don’t see it at first but behind the trees is a tower of metal and it looks like a block of metal is attached to it. It looks like a remnant of a spaceship.

“ _Looks like the Space Castle came down after all_ ,” I say, lowering the telescope.

“ _Should we tell the Village Council_?” Foster asks me.

“ _I would_ ,” I say. That way people could avoid that area. Due to the failed peace talks and that they were originally going to send their Guard as reinforcements, they are bound to cause unprovoked attacks.

 

* * *

 

“ _We should avoid the area of that ship that was sighted_ ,” I say to Nigel as we leave the village. “ _They know things are turbulent_.”

“ _What should you do if we see them_?” asks Nigel.

“ _Raise your hands and they would know we mean no harm_ ,” I say. “ _And don’t lose sight of me_.”

The Dropship is four hours away from the village but the Dropship isn’t what I’m interested in. Just the radius around it.

The two of us walk the invisible trails, watching for signs of life like twigs snapping and feet crunching on fallen leaves. Even with danger present, the new arrivals would try to look for the surviving Delinquents. They are most likely held captive by Mount Weather but they wouldn’t know that. They would think we have them because who else would they think it would be?

I just need to see if Wells hasn’t been captured by Mount Weather, then return to the village shortly after lunch. If we stay after nightfall they will grow concerned.

When I hear rustling nearby, I stand in attention, but it’s not too close. Upon further examination I see Barton on horseback in a valley below; with Finn and another Delinquent tied to his horse’s bard and across from us, I thought I see Bellamy, Charlotte, Murphy, Monroe, and another Delinquent who I don’t know hiding behind bushes. No sign of Wells though.

The other Delinquent held captive by Barton falls on the ground and I see Finn urgently trying to get the boy on his feet when I thought I see Bellamy’s eyes on me. I hide behind the bushes and make sure that Nigel is hidden, only to find out that Nigel is missing.

I feel my heartbeat pound against my chest and sweat collects at the back of my neck. I can’t lose my brother. I can’t and if something happens to him it’s my responsibility. I run back, trying to retrace my steps; looking around for him frantically.

Something better not happen to him, something better not happen to him. He better not have gotten himself into trouble.

“ _Nigel_!” I shout; the blood pounding in my ears and my legs numb.

I hear rustling in the trees and I look around for the source. “ _Nigel_?” I ask hopefully.

Something pokes my back and I feel a current of electricity up and down my spine. I lose all feeling in my body before collapsing.

“I found one!” someone shouts before I lose all consciousness.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

I don’t know how long it was before I could feel everything again and when I opened my eyes, I find myself in unfamiliar surroundings. Sunlight hits metal walls and I could see people in black twenty-first century-esque, military uniforms standing outside a mesh door.’

            The second thing I notice is that I’m secured to something. I look down to see that it’s something plastic. I turn my wrists to loosen them but to no avail.

            This can’t be the Mountain as they would have decontaminated me and removed my clothes.

            “There is a warrior stronghold two hours away from here,” I hear Wells say. “If we keep her here, her father is going to retaliate.”

            Wells! He didn’t get captured by Mount Weather.

            “We have guns,” I hear Bellamy argue. “We would take care of them.”

            “Have you heard of blockades?” Wells asks. “I doubt Tristan will risk having his warriors killed by the hundreds again after last night.”

            “He might not be near,” says Bellamy. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

            “That doesn’t mean he won’t find out,” Wells points. “Someone will tell him when he gets back. I don’t doubt that he’s just as smart as Costia.”

            “Vice Chancellor Kane, please consider what you are doing,” Bellamy begs. “She betrayed us before you set foot to the ground and if you let her go, there will be risks.”

            “If what Wells says is true, we can’t risk keeping her here,” says an older man – probably this Kane they are talking to. “If we keep her here, we risk everyone in this camp.”

            So, my status as the daughter of the General of Trikru will put them at risk if I’m kept prisoner here. Well, Kane is not wrong there and Wells is definitely not wrong that father will enforce a blockade after losing three hundred to a Ring of Fire.

            “Unlock the door, Byrne,” Kane orders.

            A surly looking, blonde haired woman in uniform gives him an incredulous look before taking something out of her pocket and unlocking the door. Behind an older man are Wells and Bellamy.

            The door opens and the four of them walk in. As the female guard takes out pliers to remove the restraints, I look at the expression on Wells’s and Bellamy’s faces. Bellamy’s fists are clenched and his nose is crinkled but Wells doesn’t display the same. His face and body language lean more to sympathy. No signs of being betrayed or disgusted.

            The Guard cuts me free from the restraints and I stand up, rubbing my wrists.

            “Sorry about that,” apologizes Kane before offering his hand. “I’m Vice Chancellor Marcus Kane. I’m acting as Chancellor until Thelonious Jaha comes down from the last remaining Ark station. You are Costia Walgrove, I presume.”

            I take his hand. “Yes but I only used the last name because it would make it easier to identify me with. How long have I been in your captivity?”

            “Just four hours,” says Kane. “I apologize for the behavior of the Guardsmen. It’s against protocol to attack someone who shows no signs of aggression.”

            “You should keep better watch on your enforcers then,” I say formally. “Otherwise they will get themselves in trouble with the rangers, like me, in the area.”

            “I will make sure that they stay in order,” Kane replies, and I could see Bellamy’s eyes narrow as if my words were a threat. “We have your pack and your weapons under lockup and we’ll give those back to you on the way out.”

            I nod and follow them out the door with the Guardsmen walking behind me as if they don’t trust me. Analyzing the surroundings, the metal confines and labels on the wall give the building a extraterrestrial feel. One might think they were in space.

            As we pass a corridor, I feel a hand squeeze around my upper arm and Bellamy steers me down that hallway.

            “What are you doing?” Wells demands.

            “Blake, get back here!” shouts Kane.

            “Before you go, I thought you might see something,” says Bellamy to me in gritted teeth. As if I had done something unforgivable.

            What did I do?

            The door slides open and I stop in my tracks. In the room, Raven is on her stomach strapped to a table, her shirt raised up. An older woman is marking a bruised area with a pen, there is a young man I don’t recognize, and Finn looking at Raven with his forehead creased in apparent concern.

            The woman looks up and stands up, looking at us in reproach. “We’re about to perform surgery. What is the meaning of this?”

            I recognize her voice. Abby Griffin. Clarke’s mother. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?

            “She needs to know what she did,” Bellamy says, jerking his head to me.

            “What did I do?” I ask, still puzzled.

            “When you shot at the floor, the bullet went through the floorboard and entered into Raven’s spine,” Bellamy answers.

            My legs go numb and the blood pounds in my ears. Through tunnel vision I see Raven lying on her stomach; looking at me with glassy eyes and tension in her body; like she’s bracing herself then a greater pain then when the bullet entered her body.

            “Now she needs surgery and as a result, she will be permanently disabled,” Bellamy tells me as I feel the waterworks begin.

            I…it was never my intention to kill anyone or render anyone disabled. I never meant to. I just wanted to scare whoever was down there. That’s all.

            “I vowed to never hurt anyone close to me,” I say. “Well, looks like I deceived myself.”  

I turn to walk away from the room, avoiding eye contact with anyone as I brush the tears from my eyes. I don’t pay attention to everyone except for Kane, who led me to the direction of the entrance.

A Guardsman offered me my quiver, bow, and provisions bag. I took them from him and didn’t apologize to the Sky Person after bumping into her as I steered myself towards the woods leading back to my village.

“Costia!” I hear Wells shout.

“Stay away from me!” I yell at him, trying to keep back my tears.

I’m not angry at him and there’s no reason for me to be furious with him. He should be furious with me. I just don’t want to hurt him. Not after unintentionally hurting Raven to the point of disabling her.

            Being two hours away from him won’t be easy but I should steer clear of him for a while for the sake of his physical safety and health.

           

* * *

 

            It’s late afternoon when I get back – close to dinnertime actually – though most people are preoccupied with their harvest catches. Some teams are at smaller villages to help them get ready for the upcoming winter months.

            I limp in further. Since my peers can’t find out I was crying over maiming someone belonging to the enemy, I rammed my foot against a tree trunk. That would make someone cry.         

            Bristol looks at me and puts down her stalk of corn before rushing to me. “ _Costia, where were you_?” she asks me. “ _Nigel came back a couple hours ago fearing that he lost you in the woods. What happened? Did you get attacked_?”

            _“No_ ,” I say. “ _I just lost sight of him and I rammed my foot into a tree while looking for him. Father’s going to be proud_.” The last sentence was pure sarcasm as father will give Nigel a lecture.

            “ _Let me look at that_ ,” she says, taking my shoulder to help me to the medical cabin. “ _It might need some mending_.”

            I might have busted a toenail or two but at least its better than them knowing why I was originally crying in the first place.

 

* * *

 

            It’s been four days since a portion of the Sky People landed in _Trigeda_ and since I saw Wells. Maybe it’s a good thing because I still can’t erase the image of Raven strapped to a table on her stomach in agonizing pain; waiting for the bullet to be taken out.

            Knowing that I was the reason for her pain and disability.

            To distract myself, I join harvest expeditions to gather food for our village and smaller ones, like the current trip to TonDC. Unfortunately the area where the Sky People are convening is where a peach orchard is located; making it impossible to access it without being fired upon by _Skaikru_ Guardsmen.

            One group – composed of civilians and warriors alike – learned the hard way when three _Skaikru_ Guardsmen fired upon them unprovoked. The gatherers survived and managed to dodge the bullets but as for the fate of the three _Skaikru_ , they paid for it. Slowly and painfully on trees.

            Guess Vice Chancellor Marcus Kane _kom Skaikru_ knows now what I meant by that there would be trouble from the rangers. Murdering and assaulting innocent people warrants severe punishment; especially on a group of people.

            Only the crimes of treason, attack on innocents, and murder of innocents warrant death by torture via multiple cuts before the sword.

            Father and his companions haven’t returned since they left for TonDC the night of the Ring of Fire. It takes a day to get there though he might have stayed in case something happened. He’s been in battle for thirty-three years so he’s capable of looking after himself. Though that doesn’t mean that I don’t worry about him.

            The drizzle falls on our faces as Bristol, Nigel, Rory, Seamus, and I travel to TonDC, our goods covered by a tarp so they don’t get wet. At TonDC, we’ll wrap and preserve the meat before storing them, and we’ll stay for the night before disembarking to Brighton the next morning.

            Our welcoming committee consists of Nyko – the only healer of TonDC at the moment – and four other residents. Usually Indra is here to greet but she’s absent.

            “ _Where’s Indra_?” I ask as I leave the wagon.

            “ _Left for Brighton with your father to discuss the_ _Sky People problem_ ,” answers Nyko. “ _They were due to leave earlier but they had to handle a problem regarding Reapers_. _She’ll be back in two days_.”

            Probably had to save people from being taken to the Mountain. We perform rescue missions from time to time. If we are lucky.

            “ _Understandable_ ,” I say. With Anya absent, Indra has to fill her place. Anya. The Mountain Men are most likely draining her of her blood at the moment while the surviving Delinquents who were in the ship are treated with luxury and comfort. I still bet all my recently acquired goods that it will not last for them.

            We put our weapons in a concealed cache. Like before the days of the bombs raining on the Earth, this location still prohibits concealed weapons. Especially since it’s the second most important political epicenter after Polis.

            When we removed ourselves of weapons, we followed Nyko and the others further to the village. Even with the drizzle, that doesn’t prevent the flurry of activity, though the preparation stalls have tarps on them to keep the food from getting wet.

            We transport our goods from the wagon to the wheelbarrows which will be taken to the empty food preparation stall. There are four stations. One where fruit and vegetables are processed; one where game is gutted, skinned, and diced; one where the meat is preserved in sea salt; the last where the meat is wrapped. I take the second station as I could care less about getting my hands bloody with animal blood and killing parasites.

            The rain pours down on the tarp and claps of thunder are heard overhead though nothing stops the activity of the village.

            “ _Why do I have the feeling that we’re being watched_?” Seamus asks after wrapping his umpteenth piece of meat before placing it in the wheelbarrow.

            “ _You’re being paranoid_ ,” Nigel says with a scoff.

            “ _No, he is not paranoid since we have one group of Sky People two hours away from Brighton Village_ ,” I answer, throwing a deer’s intestines in a bag. “ _The enemy is on our territory_.”

            “ _Maybe we should check it out_ ,” Seamus offers.

            “ _But it’s bad form to leave a preparation stall unattended_ ,” Bristol points out. “ _That’s what my father would say_.”

            I look at the trees surrounding the village. If someone is watching us, they are hidden but without weapons it’s not a good idea to investigate.

            The thunderstorm dies down and after a good dinner once we stored away all the food for winter, we turned ourselves in for the night. Bristol, Nigel, and I sleeping in Indra’s cabin with me taking a spot in the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

            _In the nighttime sky, I see fiery ships fall from the sky, like the ones a few nights before. Someone turns my head and I see that it’s mother. Her grey-green eyes alit in concern._

_“We have to go,” she whispers. “We have to go before they come.”_

_Her ice cold hand pulls on mine but I stay rooted where I stand. “Why?”_

_Her deathly pale face gazes back at me. “If we’re still here when they come, they will drain us dry. You know they want our blood to survive.”_

_“Costia,” I hear Raven say. I turn to look at her. Behind her, smoke burns and I could smell it even. Red blood pours from the waist down and her eyes burn with hatred and loathing. “Look what you did to me. We were friends.”_

_I…” I stay, stepping back._

_The smoke’s stench grows stronger until –_

            “ _Fire! Fire!_ ” someone shouts from outside as the bell rings, jolting me from my nightmare. I sit up right from my blankets on the floor, push my feet into my boots, and run out the door to investigate with Bristol and Nigel at my heel. Outside in the black night I hear frantic and panic shouts.

            Then we see it. The food store is ablaze. I feel the blood drain from my body and my heart races. No, no, no, no, no! The village will starve to death. I quickly grab the nearest bucket and fill it water at the crowded well; joining the other frantic and scared residents in dousing out the flames.

            What happened? How could it catch on fire when its lantern was thoroughly doused for the night to prevent fires? The only other answer would be arson.

            Arson?

            I take a step forward and squint. Through the flames, I think I see the form of a torch. Someone dropped it in there.

            Gunshots ring through the air, igniting screams. I turn around and my heart stops at who I see.

            Finn and Murphy. Both of whom holding assault rifles and Finn holding an elderly resident hostage.

            “Who’s in charge here?” Finn demands.

            Bristol begins sobbing and the flames provide illumination to Finn’s face. His eyes are manic with an unstable gleam.

Finn forces the man to his knees; pointing the rifle to his hostage’s head. “I’ll ask again. Who’s in charge?”

Nyko steps forward and my pulse races in my chest and ears. What is he doing? He’ll get himself killed.

“ _No, Nyko_ ,” or “ _Nyko, no_ ” shout some of the men in panic.

            Nyko looks back and says, “ _Stay calm_ ” before turning back to look at our assailants.

            Finn, the charming, two-timing jerk I know. Finn, the idiotic idealist I know. But the Finn gazing at us with a manic look while holding an assault rifle to a hostage I don’t know. What snapped in him?

            “Our leader isn’t here,” Nyko tells him. “You can deal with me.”

            Nyko, don’t even think about it. Finn’s currently an unstable _Skaikru_ with a assault rifle; who could kill him at any moment.

            “Nobody has to get hurt,” says Finn. “We just want our people back.”

            I frown. What makes him think we have his friends? The Mountain Men took them. Finn even knows that we’re not the only ones here.

            Nyko shakes his head. “We don’t have your people.”

            “Then you won’t mind if we look around,” Finn replies.

            Bristol sobs harder as Finn pushes the elderly man to the dirt and points the rifle at us.

 

* * *

 

            It’s been hours since I woke up to the food store burning. Hours since Murphy and Finn herded us into a chicken pen. Hours we spent shivering in the cold; kneeling in the dirt.

            I could have sworn that the hours have felt like years. Bristol has stopped sobbing though she is quiet. Same with Nigel.

            Daylight has crawled up on us as we stay huddled trying to keep our heads down as Murphy points a gun at us while Finn runs from dwelling to dwelling. Looking for something that isn’t here.

            I pinch myself to keep awake, as succumbing to sleep could mean death. When Murphy has his back turned, Artigas moves to jump out but Nyko holds him back. “ _Stay down_.”

            This causes Murphy to turn and walk to the pen.

            “I told you, we don’t have your people,” says Nyko.

            “We don’t,” I confirm with a nod. “Mount Weather has them. They took them the morning after the Ring of Fire.”

            Murphy looks at me and says, “Stop talking.”

            Finn leaves a building and I see him approach another with his eyes squinting. When he disappears and I hear a jacket being taken from a rack, Murphy shouts, “Find something?”

            Silence reigns for a few seconds. “Finn!” Murphy shouts, the gun pointed at us. “Finn, answer me! Are you alright?”

            Murphy turns and Artigas moves to leave the pen. It only takes a second for Murphy to notice.

            “Hey, on your knees!” Murphy shouts, putting the gun to his face. “Get down! On your knees, now!”

            “ _Do as he says_ ,” Nyko tells him.

            “On your knees!” Murphy shouts.

            Bristol cries and I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “ _Quiet. It should be over soon_.”

            I glare at Murphy as I stroke my sister’s hair. My stomach numb and heart pounding.

            “Finn!” Murphy shouts.

            Seconds later Finn sprints holding a jacket; ignoring Murphy’s plea to slow down as he jumps over the pen and throws the jacket at Nyko.

            “What have you done with them?” Finn demands.

            Nyko doesn’t say anything and Finn points a gun at Nyko’s head. My heart is pounding so fast it might as well explode.

            “Hey, Finn, Finn!” shouts Murphy, grabbing his arm. “Come on!”

            Finn turns to him. “Their clothes are here!” says Finn. “They were here!”

Ah yes. After a battle, people go to the site to scavenge and take spoils from the enemy with them. Nothing unusual.

Finn points his gun at Nyko. “You killed them,” he says as some people rise to attack Finn. Nyko instructs them to stay low. He stares down at Finn, who’s holding the assault rifle at him while breathing heavily.

            “Your friends were not here,” Nyko repeats. “I saw one, Octavia. She was alone.”

            “We don’t have them, you bastard!” I yell, the blood reaching the surface of my face as my body shakes. “The Mountain Men –”

            I feel metal strike against my jaw. Throbbing pain follows before I could taste blood.

            “Most of these people are scavengers, Finn,” says Murphy. “They could have just found that stuff.”

            Finn ignores him. His chest is heaving and the gun still pointed at Nyko. He pushes a girl to the ground. Why, I ought to –

            “Finn, stop!” Murphy grabs him. “Stop! Listen to me.”

            Finn rips his arm away from Murphy’s hold. “Get off me.”

            He presses his foot to her back and points a gun to her head. Killing a girl who has never seen a day of fighting is a cowardly and vicious act.

            “Finn, don’t do this,” says Murphy.

            Finn ignores him. He still has his rifle trained on his hostage; who’s sobbing and trying to breath.

            “Let’s just walk out of here while we still can, okay?” pleads Murphy.

            I doubt Finn can be reasoned with since he’s very unstable.

            Eventually Finn releases his foot and withdraws from the pen. Nyko drags her away from the puddle and I force all my hatred into one glare.

            Finn is responsible for mass false imprisonment and attempted murder. A crime punishable by death from hanging. If it was just false imprisonment, it would have been five years of incarceration.

            It takes moments before he composes himself though that doesn’t mean he’s not unstable.

            Finn and Murphy talk quietly. Finn asks something to which Murphy says louder, “The man with one-eye? Maybe because you had a gun to his head, Finn.”

            Delano?

            “The man with one eye,” Nyko repeats.

            Finn turns to him and points the rifle at him. Yep, still unstable.

            “You saw Delano,” says Nyko. “A snake. A thief. He and his men were cast out. You are his revenge.”

            Last year, Delano was removed from TonDC for stealing from clan ambassadors during political meetings. He also conned people to get extra goods. His last words to Indra before being exiled were, “You would regret this,” and it appears he found his revenge by sending two boys – one unstable – to TonDC while their friends are being held elsewhere.

            “It makes sense,” says Murphy. “Finn. Okay, we need to go. Now. Now! Finn, we need to go!”

            Finn lowers the rifle and as soon as his back is turned, Bristol jumps from the pen.

            My heart races and the blood pumps every part of my body. No, no, no, NO! Bristol, no!

            “ _Bristol, No_!” I shout. “ _Get back here_!”

            It takes seconds for Finn to spot her before shooting. Eight gunshots.

            When I watch my sister fall to the ground like a rag doll, it’s like everything goes numb.

            There is nothing but tunnel vision. My ears begin to ring. My entire body is numb.

            Nyko says something to Finn but I don’t know what it is. His voice sounds muffled, just like the screams and shouts from those around me. I hear someone leave the pen.

            The gunshots don’t only have a muffled quality but they feel louder and prominent as well. I take Nigel and latch onto him. Holding him tight; keeping him from leaving the pen.

            The air is a plethora of muffled screams, Murphy yelling Finn’s name, and enhanced gunshots. My body shakes though I keep my hold on my brother. I don’t want him to leave the pen.

            The pounding of my heart is particularly painful and it feels like not only my heart but my blood vessels will also burst.

            When it seems like forever, the gunshots stop and everything becomes clearer. I look up to see Wells, Clarke, and Bellamy in the trees. Not far behind them is Anya.

  


           


	18. Chapter Eighteen

            My legs and hands shake as I jump over the pen. I rush to Bristol and as I kneel down to turn over her body my entire body shakes. Blood is pouring from the bullet puncture wounds and when I feel for a pulse there’s nothing.

            My breathing is shallow as I try to contain the animal of emotion in me, though it’s threatening to escape at this very moment.

            “Artigas,” I hear Octavia say. How does she know him?

            I shut Bristol’s eyes with my fingers as I my vision blurs and the shaking grows worse. I get closer to her, my body shaking with sobs. I feel a hand on my shoulder like someone wants to comfort me before it quickly withdraws. I wipe my eyes to see Anya giving Wells an apologetic but stern glance before bending down and taking a knife from her pocket. Tied around her arm is a bandage and sling.

            She offers it to me and I take it. My hands shake as I’m trying to cut the braid from Bristol’s hair. A hand steadies it and I see that it’s Nigel. His face streaked with tears.

            He nods and I cut the braid from her hair. Everything breaks loose. My body violently shakes, my vision completely blurs, and wrecking sobs come from my body. Nigel pulls me closer while Anya comes to my other side.

            “Is there anything I can do to help?” I hear Wells ask.

            No one answers. I put my head on Bristol’s chest and sob; blocking everything out. The first thing I need is my father. I want him now more than anything.

            I just want to go home.

 

* * *

 

**_Two days later_ **

            I hear a knock at my bedroom door. I groan and pull the covers over my head. “ _Go away_ ,” I groan.

            “ _I have porridge with strawberries_ ,” I hear Nigel say from the other side of the door. “ _Your favorite. Father said that I should give it to you_.”

            I sigh. There is no use turning him away if father sent him to give me breakfast. I turn over and sit up. “ _Alright. Enter_ ,” I say.

            The door opens and Nigel comes in with a tray containing a steaming bowl, a plate of poached eggs, and a glass of orange juice. The aroma of it is comforting.

            “ _Thanks_ ,” I say as I set the tray on my lap.

            “ _Father and Anya are concerned_ ,” he says. “ _You haven’t left your room since returning from TonDC_.”

            “ _I left my room_ ,” I say before taking a bite of oatmeal.

            “ _Only to have meals before resorting to self-exile_ ,” he points out.

            It’s true. I only left my room to eat because father and Anya wouldn’t think I was starving myself. I also did that to get some information on the TonDC Massacre since I was in a catatonic haze for a few hours after.

            Eighteen died at the hands of Finn (or the “boy” or the “murderer” as our culture dictates that someone who commits a atrocity against innocent people are to bereaved of their name and clan. That way the atrocity is remembered but the perpetrator isn’t given notoriety); my sister being among the young fatalities.

The story that Anya got, Abby Griffin sent Bellamy, Murphy, the murderer, Monroe, and another boy to find the others since they were convinced that we had them. They spotted Delano and captured him since he was wearing a watch Clarke wore. At some point he gave them false information and the group separated; Bellamy and Monroe going back to the Skaikru base while the murderer and Murphy went to TonDC. Apparently he didn’t seem fazed by his atrocity when he found out we didn’t have them. Anya said that he looked at Clarke with a relieved smile and said, “I found you.” Like it was worth it.

Apparently Murphy told Anya something before they left. When they were staking out TonDC, the murderer asked him, “How much ammo do you think we have?” I wonder if Murphy knew that piece of information would put the final nail in the coffin. That my people would see it as a premeditated act. Or maybe he did it because he thinks it would save him from harsh punishment in the long run for being a accessory.

Burning the food store was indicative that this was a calculating move. He started shooting when people left the pen but he was willing to kill an innocent girl before then. Staking out the village and inquiring about the quantity of ammo is indicative of premeditation.

All of this; destroying a village’s food supply and killing eighteen people for a girl. A girl he shouldn’t have been with in the first place. If that’s not further proof that he really doesn’t love Raven, I don’t know what that is. That makes the situation more disgusting and horrific. In Woods Clan culture, we call a man who does horrific acts out of obsession for a girl “The Son of Menelaus.”

Thanks to him, TonDC is in a state of emergency. Some villages had to halt building up their food supply for the winter to help TonDC replace the food that was destroyed. Lexa is due in Brighton Village in two days to address the problem.

This is the first time in five years the Woods Clan had an attack committed against civilians. The last assault against a village with a higher concentration of non-warriors was at Munson Village, a farming village just north of Polis and right at the _Azgeda_ border.

            “ _I exiled myself in my room most of the time, I am not going to lie there_ ,” I admit. I can’t remain in here forever, which I know. I have to face and slay my demons.

            “ _Um, I’ll leave you to finish_ ,” he says before walking out of my bedroom. He closes the door, leaving me to eat my breakfast.

            I clean off my plate and bowl before changing into a set of day clothes. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath before opening my bedroom door. I descend the stairs and open the front door a crack before completely exciting the house.

            Sun gleams on the puddles from last night’s rain while the air smelled of wet soil and gravel. My boots crunch against the wet gravel and mud as I go to the artillery. Might as well craft arrows to make myself useful since I’m not scheduled for patrols today.

            I push the door to the artillery and my feet echo on the wooden floor in the empty building. The craft box is on a table behind the barrels of spears and bows. I sit on the stool and open it. I made arrows before. And I’m certainly positive I haven’t forgotten how to make them.     

            I focus on my first arrow, making sure that the stick and mountain lion tooth are tied tightly together. That the feather is tied to the end of the stick tightly. That it doesn’t fall apart.

            Arrows are different then bullets. You can pretty much reuse them after using one. They don’t cause the same amount of damage that bullets make.

            The sound of the gunshots and the screams play in my mind and I see the image of my sister sprawled on the ground in a pool of her own red blood. Her lifeless eyes open.

            My hands shake and I take deep breaths as I set down the arrow. I lower my face into my hands and the tears come. Why would a boy kill eighteen unarmed people while looking for a girl he was obsessed with? How? Somebody tell me how?

            I should have killed him that night. I would have succeeded if Anya didn’t go into the Dropship when the door was closing. Bristol would still be alive as for the other seventeen that he killed.

            I hear the door open and Anya asks, “ _Costia_?”

            I don’t give her an answer.

            Two pairs of footsteps come closer to where I’m sitting. If Anya’s not alone, then the second person must be father. Who else would it be?

            I hear a stool being dragged against the floor before someone wraps their arms around my shoulders. I have half the mind to shove that person away and say that I don’t need anyone with me. Yet, I crave company. I crave human contact. I just want to release my emotions that have been pent up for the past two days.  

            I shake harder as I’m choked by suffocating sobs before leaning to my father. who takes me into his arms and enfolds me in them.

            “ _Just let it out_ ,” he says. “ _You can let it out_.”

            “ _W-w-why_?” I ask as I sob into his shoulder. “ _W-wh-hy did t-this h-hap-ppen? Why?_ ”

            “ _It’s going to be taken care of_ ,” he assures. “ _We will take care of them_.”

            I don’t want all of them gone. I just want the murderer dead. I want it to be only him to be gone.

            “ _Do you want me to see if someone can make strawberry tart_?” Anya asks me. Her hand on my shoulder. “ _It might not heal but it will comfort you_.”

            I don’t want my favorite dessert. The only thing that will bring me comfort is the murderer tied to a pole, suffering from the pain of fire and eighteen cuts before Lexa ends it with a sword. That’s what I want. Justice and vengeance for the death of my sister and seventeen others.

‘           However as to not disappoint Anya, I nod; wiping my nose with my sleeve. I hear footsteps as father hands me a piece of cloth to wipe the tears and the snot from my face.

            “ _Remember when your mother was taken and you isolated yourself and refused to eat for a few days?_ ” he asks me.

            I nod. The days following mother’s capture were dark. Like mushroom clouds expanding and covering sunlight. I refused to leave my room and refused meals. It must have been hard on father at first because two weeks before mother’s capture he ascended to the rank of General after his predecessor was killed by a Azgeda archer on the battlefield; just after Christmas. Though he found a way to channel is grief and he encouraged me to do the same.

            “ _What did you do to channel your grief?_ ” he asks me.

            The answer was simple. Books. I loved reading stories before but reading books provided a escape from the pain that threatened to engulf me. No one can get rid of pain, as it’s a part of being human but sometimes we need to escape it from time to time. And books provide a perfect escape from pain.

            “ _Read?_ ” I ask.

            “ _I would recommend reading when you feel like the pain of the loss is going to crush you_ ,” he says. “ _Nothing can cure the pain but you can escape it from time to time_.”

            I intend to read though I also need participate in harvest hunts and patrols because I can’t vegetate.

 

* * *

 

            The next day I was able to leave the village walls with other people for a harvesting expedition, avoiding the Skaikru base and the danger zone. Out in the woods, if anyone didn’t have human contact for the last three weeks, they wouldn’t know that the kettle is actually steaming due to the TonDC Massacre. Everything is at boiling point in my village. Especially considering that I overheard Quint and others describe different ways of killing the Sky People. Ranging from crucifying them to leaving them as live bait.

            Hearing that makes me nervous because I don’t want Wells to suffer a painful death. He hasn’t done anything. It’s the murderer who deserves having a slow and agonizing death.

            By lunchtime, a rider from Polis arrived to the village with Indra in tow. The message was clear: In two days, Lexa will enforce a blockade on the Skaikru base if they don’t leave our territory. She even sent one to pass the message. I don’t know who it was or when the person was captured but I hope it wasn’t Wells.

            I could understand the decision for a blockade as we’ll be no match for their guns. Some people on the other hand –

            “ _A blockade is not going to have the desired effect_ ,” I could hear Quint argue during a strategy meeting after lunch; while I’m standing outside father’s study. “ _We need to hit them hard_.”

            “ _My scouts examined their base from a distance_ ,” answers Anya. “ _The warriors guarding that hunk of metal are carrying assault rifles. A frontal assault could only result in the loss of a few hundred. Something we can’t risk during harvest_.”

            “ _You might think it would be slow but that’s only when hunger is involved_ ,” says father. “ _Their camp is not far from a water source. We will block their access to it as well. They can go for days without food but without water, they will not last for even two days. It’s a fast and painful way to die_.”

            Of course, since the body needs water to survive. It’s a painful death to have your organs shrivel up and shut down in the process.

            “ _That’s not what you desire but it’s a effective solution_ ,” says Indra. “ _The human body will waste away in a couple of days without water_.”

            I pull away from the door and quietly walk towards the front door. They are going to tell the rangers and scouts anyway before dispatching them but knowing ahead of time is going to be an advantage. I could come up with some sort of signal so I sneak a conversation with Wells to encourage that he should go. Because I don’t want him to suffer from death of dehydration.

 

* * *

 

            On the next day, Lexa arrived with her guards and Titus just as lunch was at its tail end. Her cast-iron carriage with the gilded edges was obvious. I watch from the dining room window as she descended from the carriage; steadying her wooden headdress as her feet reached the ground.

            I pull away from the curtain, my heart pounding in my chest and the blood rushing to my cheeks. When I kissed Wells, I would have thought that my romantic feelings for Lexa would start to fade but it’s like the curtain doesn’t want to descend. That it’s not resolved between us.

            I place the plate with the other empty plates before straightening my jacket. Then I take a few deep breathes after I cross into the main foyer and enter the empty kitchen to exit the house out of the front door.

            My fists are balled as I walk between my house and Anya’s to enter the main road. At the stables, I see the group of scouts assigned to monitor the area get their horses ready as well as the four of the five rangers assigned to accompany with them. The fifth ranger being me.

            “ _Someone is out on time_ ,” Beaufort says with a shrug.

            “ _I was finishing up lunch_ ,” I say, entering the stable to take Athena from her stall. I lift the latch and hold the rope to lead her out.

            “ _I saw the Commander enter your house just before you walked between your house and Anya’s house_ ,” says Beaufort. “ _Sulking in there?_ ”

            “ _Shut your mouth or you’ll wind up losing a tooth_ ,” I threaten.

            That shuts him up. Sometimes I wish I can shove a piece of bark into his mouth so he can stop talking.

            I put horse feed and horse treats into her saddle bag before straightening her saddle. Looking over at my companions, I’m going to have to tell them something so that they would disregard my moves.

            It’s going to require stealth, something that I’m not stranger to.

 

* * *

 

            The base is only a half hour by horseback. Though the trees, I could see the Guardsmen patrolling a newly erected fence. Through the telescope, I could see a sign with the words _Camp Jaha_ above the gate.

            “ _What would Camp Jaha refer to_?” Corrine asks me.

            Only one thing. Wells and his father Thelonious share the same surname and it could only apply to the latter. Because who else would they name the base after.

            “ _Their leader goes by the surname of Jaha_ ,” I answer.

            “ _That is predictable_ ,” Beaufort says. “ _What is the purpose of this?”_

            “ _We have to monitor the area to see if they leave by the deadline_ ,” I answer. “ _They only have sixteen hours left_.”

            “ _I don’t understand why the Commander would give them the choice to leave or die?”_ Vance asks with a shrug. “ _Why not just kill the murderer before forcing them out? Because no clan would take them with him alive_.”

            That’s the truth, as even without technology word manages to spread fast throughout the whole Coalition. Luna only takes in people wanting to escape aggression and Ice Nation would non-discriminately slaughter them upon arrival. The only place they could go is out west where it’s uninhabited.

            From a distance I see a group of four people leave from the side of the fence. I peer from the telescope to see Wells, Clarke, Bellamy, and Octavia running to the woods; a sense of urgency about them.

            “ _I’m going to see what those four are up to_ ,” I say.

            “ _Want Corrine and I to come as backup?_ ” Beaufort asks me.

            “ _There are only four of them_ ,” I reply. “ _I can take care of them myself if there is trouble_.”

            I tugged the reins and Athena gallops. There is only one place they could go.

 

* * *

 

            I haven’t been to the site of the Dropship since the Ring of Fire. The wall shows obvious signs of fire damage and entering through the entrance, the blood in my veins freeze at the sight of charred corpses. Most of them being Trikru warriors.

            They were someone’s son, brother, father, sister, and mother yet while the sight tugs my heart and I feel my eyes water, it doesn’t illicit the same devastation and rage that the TonDC Massacre brings.

            This was a battle where death was a possibility and if the situation was in reverse, we would have done the same. What happened at TonDC was a cold-blooded and calculated unprovoked attack on a group of people who had showed no signs of hostility.

            I unmount from Athena and tie her to the wall before walking towards the Dropship door; careful not to walk on the corpses of my clan brothers and sisters. When my feet touch the metal floor of the Dropship, I hear rabid growling. Like the sound of a Reaper who hasn’t eaten his usual meal of flesh and organs; yet the rattling of chains is indicative enough.

            I should go but curiosity propels me to climb the ladder. I hear the click of a rifle followed by Wells saying, “No, we don’t know who it is.”

            “Exactly why,” Bellamy says in reply.

            When I reach the final level of the Dropship, Bellamy raises his gun and Octavia unsheathes a sword. The hostility doesn’t surprise me nor do I blame them for it. I would be more suspicious of them if they sweep my treachery under the rug.

            I see that Octavia is trying to be Trikru, if the braids and sword wasn’t indicative enogh. I find it distasteful. My culture is not something for her to play with.

“It’s just Costia,” Wells says.

            “Wells, don’t,” I say, not looking at him. “They have every right to be angry.”

            I look past Clarke and when I see the struggling and rabid Reaper, my eyes widen.

            The Mountain Men turned Lincoln into a Reaper.

            “Why are you here?” Bellamy demands. “Did they move up the day of the attack?”

            “It’s going to be blockade,” I correct. “They will not only prevent you from getting food but they will also restrict your access to water.”

            “I thought so,” Wells mutters. Bellamy’s, Clarke’s, and Octavia’s eyes widen. Not what they were expecting probably.

            “You have to be out of here before the deadline,” I say, keeping a eye on Lincoln. “I can’t risk you dying from dehydration.”

            “Why would you care?” Octavia demands. “You betrayed us and disabled Raven and you have the gall to act like you care? Go float yourself.”

            The words sting, especially the information regarding Raven. I doubt I can forgive myself for disabling her and I doubt that she will ever forgive me.

            “Octavia,” Wells says, aghast by her words.

            I swallow. “You have every right to be angry but that was never my intention to hurt Raven. I just wanted to scare her.”

            “Says every person who harms someone,” Bellamy says with clenched teeth; his tone scathing.

            “Could we focus our attention on Lincoln?” Clarke turns to me. “Do you know if there is a way to reverse it?”

            She thinks I’m Dr. Know? It’s impossible. Looking at Lincoln, he has just become a Reaper as he has not undergone any of the key alterations but he’s damaged beyond repair.

            “You can’t change a Reaper back into the men they were,” I point out. “Our people tried doing that only for them to die in the process.”

            “There must be something,” Octavia spits out. “What about the antidote you have in that medicinal case?”

            “You can’t tell me to kill myself and then ask for my help,” I spit out. “You can’t have it both ways, Octavia.”

            I climb down the ladder; the blood pounding on my ears and hands. I understand their anger but I can’t stay there especially with a Reaper about to break out of his chains.

            I just can’t.

            “Costia!” Wells shouts as I step outside.

            I ignore him and mount on Athena, ready to ride off but Wells grabs the reins. “Costia,” he says softly.

            I look at his brown eyes. They show no sign of resentment yet he looks like me like he sees me no different than the girl he thought he knew. Like he already forgave me for betraying him.

            “Why did you forgive me?” I ask as I feel the first droplets of rain fall from the sky. “Why? After all that I did?”

            “Because I went by my gut,” he says calmly.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

_I wade through the trees and the bushes; trying to keep my cover under darkness._

_“Mother?” I ask, looking for any sign of her. Panic sets in as my heart races and sweat collects on my body. She must be here. She should be._

_Loud gunshots fill the nighttime air followed by a bloodcurdling scream. My heart pounds hard in my chest as I rush between the bushes. When my hands separate the bushes, it’s like everything stops._

_My mother lies before me. Her lifeless eyes open and blood pouring from bullet wounds. No, no, no, no, no! This didn’t happen._

_Right behind me, I hear a bullet click in place and I whip around to see the murderer right there. Holding that assault rifle right at me. His eyes empty and soulless._

_Everything feels like it’s closing in as my heart pounds even harder. I stagger down, my palm raised up. “No, don’t do this!” I exclaim as I feel the tears roll down my cheeks. “I’m begging you!”_

_He doesn’t answer. He pulls the trigger and everything goes black._

            I sit right up; gasping for breath and my body covered in cold sweat. That didn’t happen but it felt so real, like I could actually see him. Only if I saw him in a real life scenario, he would not fare well from me.

            The thought of him tied to a pole, covered in blood and in agonizing pain gives me comfort. He deserves to be torched and have his tongue ripped out.

            If that happens.

            The doorknob turns and I turn over to see it open slowly. Only to see Lexa peek her head in.

            “ _Trouble sleeping?_ ” I ask her, knowing that she couldn’t have heard me five doors away.

            “ _It’s hard to sleep when a slaughter of innocents has been unresolved_ ,” Lexa answers. “ _Did I interrupt you?_ ”

            I shrug. “ _Just one of those nights, only he was featured in them_.”

            Lexa moves her jaw slightly for a second and stands silently at my bedroom door before closing the door behind her. Her black nightgown brushing against the hard wood floor.

            “ _You probably think that the choice I gave them wasn’t satisfactory_ ,” says Lexa. “ _But what choice did I have during the harvest season?_ ”

            I could understand it but if the Sky People don’t want a hostile experience in another clan’s territory, they should just hand him over to us before leaving. That way we can fulfill _Jus Drein Jus Daun_ and have peace here.

            “ _I could understand it_ ,” I say.

            “ _Do you want me to stay with you while you sleep?_ ” Lexa offers.

            Last time Lexa and I shared a bed together was right before my run in with those Ice Nation warriors. It would be betraying Wells in retrospect but with most Trikru families, people often share beds. Having your bed and room is a luxury. Besides, Lexa often gotten in bed with me back when we were kids while she was in furloughs away from Polis before our friendship blossomed into romance. There is nothing sexual about it.

            “ _I suppose so_ ,” I say, scooching over to allow her room.

            The bed dips as she sits on the mattress and slides under my blankets. She wraps her arm around me and brings me closer. Wrapping her arm around my back and over my arm.

            It’s been five years since felt another person’s weight next to mine. If only that would become true for Wells and I.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, breakfast is quiet and I keep my head down. Trying to avoid my eyes meeting Lexa’s emerald ones across the table. Though Lexa is probably looking at me every few minutes due to the disapproval I see on Titus’s face from the corner of my eye.

            Anya doesn’t seem to pay any mind. As she’s busy reading _The Soviet Cuban Missile Crisis_ as she eats her mash potatoes and biscuits. Indra is playing solitaire as she eats her breakfast.

            Breakfast has reached an end when Gustus enters the dining room. “ _The leaders of the Sky People request an audience with the Commander_.”

            Lexa immediately stands up from her chair as I jolt in my seat. Why would Chancellor Thelonious Jaha and Vice Chancellor Marcus Kane – the latter having been free from Trikru custody since yesterday –be here when their choice is to leave or die?

            “ _What is the point of their presence when they are drained of other choices?_ ” father asks.

            “ _Did they identify themselves?_ ” Lexa asks Gustus, ignoring father.

            “ _A young woman named Clarke and a young man named Wells_ ,” Gustus answers.

            Wells and Clarke? What possessed them to come here, when everything is too far gone to make a truce? Do they think they have something to offer?

            “ _Maybe they think they can offer us something_ ,” Anya deduces. “ _Because that’s the only thing they can do at the moment_.”

            “ _If they do, it better be that murderer_ ,” Indra says. “ _The black cloud over TonDC will not dissipate until he’s dead_.”

            Lexa tilts her head and presses her lips together in thoughtfulness

            “ _Commander, I would proceed with caution_ ,” Titus says, his voice full of skepticism. “ _The Sky People still pose a threat to the clan_.”

            “ _The Commander can decide for herself, Titus_ ,” Anya argues. “ _I trust her judgment_.”

            Lexa picks up the headdress and places it on her head before turning to Gustus. “ _Show them in. Anya, Tristan, Indra, Costia, and Wight, follow me_.”

            Her shoulder cape brushes against her as she leaves the dining room and I follow her lead.

            “ _Commander, are you going to risk the lives of two thousand and seven hundred and sixty-two people by having a audience with these people?_ ” Titus argues. “ _They are the same leaders who burned three hundred warriors alive in a Ring of Fire_.”

            I want to argue with Titus about that. Clarke might have thought of it but Wells would never come up with that idea. He wanted peace between both groups last time I knew.

            “ _I rather see what they want then send them away_ ,” Lexa says in reply. “ _If what they offer is good for the clan, I wouldn’t pass it up_.”

            “ _You sound like Anya_ ,” Titus notes with resentment. “ _Don’t forget my teachings, Commander_.”

            “ _I trust Anya’s judgment_ ,” Lexa replies. “ _As I told you thousand times before_.”

            “ _There is a reason why the past Commanders dropped like flies with you_ ,” Anya says. “ _The First Commander is turning over in the Flame due to your teaching_.”

            I wouldn’t doubt that either. The whole Love is Weakness tripe was made by the Flamekeeper before Titus. _Bekka Pramheda_ never said that in her journal.

            In the parlor, Lexa’s throne has been situated at the window. Like how it’s placed in the throne room of the Tower. She sits down and takes the knife that Anya gave her for Christmas years ago from her belt before placing it on her hand.

            I look from the parlor and towards the front door. I shift my weight with my feet and feel my blood pounding in every vessel. The front door opens and at the sight of Gustus, I head to the pewter dish on the table and take a strawberry shortbread cookie. I just ate breakfast but something in my mouth could soothe my nerves.

            I stand at one end of the room and tightly grip my belt to prevent myself from slouching. The door creaks open and Wight steps back one step as Wells and Clarke slowly approach the throne where Lexa is sitting with Gustus following them. Wells analyzes his surroundings and when he looks at Indra, she takes a double take for a split second; as if she saw a ghost but she quickly hides it with her stony exterior.

            I know that Indra lost both her brothers to Mount Weather within the span of six years and it’s possible that Wells reminds her of the brother that was snatched by the Reapers when he was seventeen.

            Clarke looks at Anya for a few seconds before she locks eyes with my father. Her eyes narrow as does his. There is only one time where she could have encountered my father and I doubt they met on friendly terms.

            Wells looks at me and I look at him for a few seconds before looking on as my father is in the room.

            “You are the ones who burned three hundred of my warriors alive,” Lexa says as she turns her knife against her hand; not looking at them.

            “You’re the one who sent them there to kill us,” Clarke says.

            Lexa looks at them and stabs the armrest with the tip of her knife. Everything about her posture, the regality and the knife are meant to intimidate but when she looks at Clarke only, interest gleams in her eyes before she looks at Wells. If anything, Clarke’s forcefulness turned her on.

            Lexa has a thing for forceful and strong women.

            “Do you have an answer for me, Clarke and Wells of the Sky People?” Lexa asks, that gleam gone from her emerald irises.

            “We came to make you an offer,” Clarke says.

            “This is not a negotiation,” Lexa answers.

            “ _If you want, let me kill her and get it over with_ ,” father says, glaring at Clarke.

            Lexa raises her hand to him. Silencing him.

            “We can work together to contain Mount Weather,” Wells says.

            A new interest is seen on Lexa’s eyes. He caught her attention there. She puts her knife on her lap and says, “Go on.”

            “When we arrived down here, we heard that Mount Weather is a danger zone in the territory and from what I heard, it confirms it,” Wells says. “Hundreds of Woods Clan are locked in cages for who knows how long, and their blood is used for radiation treatment.”

            Anya nods in confirmation.

            “How do you know this?” Lexa demands.

            “Because I saw them,” Clarke answers. “My people are prisoners there too.”

            “Falsehoods,” Titus says. “No one has escaped from there.”

            “She’s not lying, Titus,” Anya argues. “We both fought our way out together.”

            Father widens his eyes and looks at Anya with surprise. She probably didn’t tell him the whole story of her escape from Mount Weather. She probably made it sound like that she made it out herself.

            Lexa turns to Anya before she resumes her gaze to Wells and Clarke.

            “Yes, we both got out,” Clarke says. “And she was going to deliver you a message before things got complicated.”

            “What message?” Indra asks.

            “It was…listen, I know that we done things to you and I don’t blame you for not trusting us,” Wells says. “However, if we’re going to contain Mount Weather, we have to work together. We will be stronger that way.”

            “Fascinating concept,” father says, skeptical. “However, it will be impossible to attempt.”

            “I am still waiting for an offer,” Lexa says.

            “The Mountain Men are turning your people into Reapers,” Clarke replies. “I can turn them back.”

            “Impossible,” Anya scoffs. “When they make the change, it can’t be reversed.”

            “If you ask, our ancestors tried,” father continues, “but the result was always their death.”

            “I did,” Clarke replies. “With Lincoln.”

            Indra, who hasn’t said much of anything for the past few minutes, implodes. She leaves her place next to Anya and marches over to Clarke. “That traitor is the reason my village was slaughtered by your people,” she spits out, her face inches from Clarke’s as way to intimidate her.

            That murderer was the reason TonDC was slaughtered in the first place. Lincoln had nothing to do with it. He wouldn’t approve of it either.

            “ _Indra!_ ” Lexa exclaims, standing up. “ _Stand down!_ ”

            Indra glares at Clarke before walking to the other side of the room next to me. It’s like tension has filled the room as Lexa looks at both Anya and Titus from the corner of her eyes before stepping towards Wells and Clarke.

            Lexa is a few inches taller than Clarke though Lexa and Wells are about the same height. Both Wells and Clarke look at Lexa unwaveringly.

            “You say you can turn Reapers back into men?” Lexa asks.

            “Yes,” says Clarke while Wells puts his hands in his pocket; as if he wished for something better to offer.

            “Then prove it,” Lexa replies. “Show me Lincoln.”

            If they can’t prove it, they are all dead. And that’s what sends my anxiety up the roof. They can’t bring Lincoln back. It’s impossible.

 

* * *

 

            It’s been thirty minutes since Wells and Clarke led Lexa, Anya, Indra, Titus, father, Gustus, Wight, and a few rangers to the Dropship. What did I do? Take Nigel to the perimeter of Camp Jaha to look for any developments.

            Why there? Because if they succeed, the only place that they could take Lincoln would be there, because my clan wouldn’t take him back. He would have no choice but to spend time with the Sky People.

            “Are we allowed to even do this?” Nigel asks me as we enter the group of trees; where I can see a group of rangers standing.

            “It’s just analyzing the perimeter, Nigel,” I say. “Nothing unusual.”

            I look through my telescope; gazing at the fence. Just Guardsmen patrolling the fence and the walls. Nothing unusual.

            Orford glances at us for a second before returning to his task of rifling with a hollow of the tree next to him. Probably found a camera and microphone inside. The Mountain Men sure like to spy on their “disposable blood bags.”

            I glance at the tree next to me and press my ear to the hollow, hearing for anything mechanical. Yep, I hear the sound of the camera adjusting focal points. We take them out only for the Mountain Men to replace them. If only we had concrete so that we can cover the hollow like what Mr. Radley did in _To Kill a Mockingbird_.

            These buggers are like cockroaches.

            I take out my knife and stick it into the hollow. My arm plunges further into the hollow and I let the blade feel around the inside of it until I feel something like glass. I shatter it with the blade of the knife before severing something that feels like wire. I quickly withdraw my hand and knife from the hollow before seeing sparks from the tree hollow.

            They should have fun replacing it.

            For a few hours, we watch the area for a sign of their arrival. They did walk, so it will be four hours to and back there. So, it might be afternoon when they get back.

            By that time, Beaufort mutters about getting more dried fruit for his provisions bag and I check the area as he leaves the group. I see a group of people approach Camp Jaha. Two people carrying a stretcher. Looking closely through the telescope, Abby and Nyko are both carrying the stretcher and I see that it’s Lincoln on the stretcher with Octavia holding his hand but she looks relieved rather than mournful.

            What in the living blazes did they do to bring him back? Analyzing the scene even further, Lexa is speaking with Wells and Clarke. Father, Anya, and Indra are speaking amongst themselves; all three of them looking baffled. Titus’s lips are pressed; indicating that this never went as planned.

            Well, I never would have expected it either but maybe it’s good that things didn’t go the way Titus expected.

            I slowly inch away from the trees. The Guardsmen see me. They shout and one of them points their rifle at me.

            “Hold your fire!” Abby shouts. “She’s just a kid!”

            Just a kid? I have been fighting in battles since I was eight. How delusional can she get?

            Father says something to her to which she scowls and says something in reply. He just waves his hand in derision before leaving the group; Anya close behind him.

            “ _Sound the retreat!_ _The blockade is no longer in effect for the time being!_ _You done your duty for the day_!” he shouts. “ _Go back to the village and tell your peers that patrols are to be carried out as usua_ l!”

            That means we patrol the woods and the perimeter of villages. Peacetime patrol.

            In the trees, someone sounds the horn signifying the retreat. Father’s use of “for the time being” indicates that something might change before it goes into effect again. That means if they succeeded in presenting the first offer, they need to go through with giving the second offer if there is to be a truce. And I know what Lexa will want them to offer to her in return for a truce.

            I love Wells and I feel guilty about being the cause of Raven’s disability. However, I can’t be in an alliance with a group of people when the murderer, originating of that group, who killed my sister and seventeen others, is still alive.

            And I doubt I’m the only one who thinks that.

 

* * *

 

            “So, the Sky People can turn Reapers back into men,” Ashton says resentfully as he and a couple of rangers sit at the bar located in the eating canteen. “What will they do now? Magically wipe the Mountain Men from the face of the Earth?”

            “There is the Acid Fog to think about,” I say, as I pick up my empty bowl before leaving the table. I put it in the bin where the dirty silverware, dishes, and bowls are collected. Then I step outside to see Wells and Clarke leave my house with father and Anya close behind them. Stepping closer, I see that Clarke looks crushed and shocked while Wells doesn’t seem surprised by something.

            I could only imagine what Lexa told them. Only that Clarke shouldn’t be surprised about it. What did she expect? That Lexa was going to sweep the death of my sister and seventeen others under the rug just for this truce?


	20. Chapter Twenty

            It’s been thirty minutes since Wells and Clarke left with riders to Camp Jaha. Lexa wanted to give them the choice of Finn over or having the blockade go back into effect in three days. Unfortunately, they would not want to hand him over even with the threat of dehydration. That his life mattered more than the eighteen that he murdered.

            Apparently I was not the only one with those thoughts.

            “If they don’t hand him over, they will risk everyone there,” father says as he stretches on his riding gloves.

            “Does the Commander know that we are paying a visit to Camp Jaha to persuade them,” I ask father.

            “She knows but she’s not stopping us,” Anya answers. “In fact she doesn’t object to the idea.”

            “Persuasion should do them good,” Indra says. “The only real closure we’ll have if the murderer is tied to the pole at the mercy of the grieving. A blockade will not suffice it.”

            Looking at it, a blockade won’t provide good enough closure. It’s only going to put a bandage on it to stop the bleeding. It needs to be cauterized and a execution will do just that.

            I pull my headpiece over my head before mounting Athena.

            It doesn’t take long for the father, Anya, and Indra to get on their respective horses; as do some of the rangers that are also accompanying them. I hold on to the reins tightly with my fingers and wait before father, Anya, and Indra go first; with me and Vane riding beside them with torches and the other three behind them.

            We ride through the darkness, the torches providing illumination. Out here, there’s the sound of nothing but the leaves swaying to the breeze and the cicadas in the trees accompanied by the crickets.

            It’s been two hours in darkness and fog before we could see the lights and the glint of metal. Our horses walk slowly as shouts are heard though they quiet down. The riders sent with Clarke give us a nod as our feet descend to the ground.

            “Open the gate!” Wells shouts. “It’s the Woods Clan military higher ups!”

            The gate opens and as we walk in, the remaining people outside quiet down though I don’t detect any hostility. However, it’s not long before we hear conversation again.

            “They are here for the Spacewalker,” someone says.

            “Good. They can take him,” a man says in response as Wells approaches father. No sign of being intimidated.

            However, father doesn’t seem to notice. “Care if we have a word with you and your partner?” father asks him.

            “I see why not,” says Wells before gesturing to the entrance. “This way.”

            We follow him to the round opening that leads into their home. A mix of scared, intrigued, and curious eyes following our moves. Though I think that the first one is because they are fearful that Wells might get stabbed in the back by us. Far unlikely in this case.

            A woman pulls her son away from the entrance as soon as we enter. Probably doesn’t want us to give her child our germs. She should be glad that this is Woods Clan territory they are in.

            “Have you contained the murderer like I required for you to do?” Anya asks.

            “Well, when our people say contained, they interpret it as just keeping a watch on them without incarceration,” Wells says with a sigh. “I even told Chancellor Abby everything that I saw.”

            What? She cleared him? That ignorant, hypocritical –

            “I meant incarnation, Wells,” Anya says. “Looks like your leader needs to sort her priorities.”

            “In that case, we should have our warriors remove him from the premises,” Indra says. “If they clear him, they might not want to hand him over.”

            Vice Chancellor Kane comes down the corridor and his eyes widen, like he didn’t expect us here. “What is the occasion?”

            “We need to see one of your leaders,” Anya says.

            “Chancellor Abby is in the stockade letting go some people,” says the Vice Chancellor. “I’ll escort you to the Council Room while I send for her.”

            “We want her daughter,” Indra says.

            “Clarke is not available,” Kane says.

            “If I recall, it was Clarke and Wells that arrived in our village with an offer regarding the Reapers, not her mother,” father says. “We want to speak with the people that negotiated a truce with the Commander.”

            Kane considers it before saying, “I’ll find someone to summon her. This way.”

            We follow the Vice Chancellor down the corridor and from a peripheral vision, a brown haired guy with a mustache says, “Five of them look like they are cosplaying Bane.”

            Ronan veers around and grabs the guy by his throat before pushing him to the wall.

            “Ronan, unhand him,” Indra commands. “That’s not why we’re here.”

            Ronan glares at his hostage before releasing his hand from the guy’s throat and then catching up with us.

            “If we want a stable alliance, we shouldn’t lash out at quirky remarks, _branwada_ ,” I say to him.

            “What does that word mean in English?” Wells asks.

            “It’s Trigedasleng for idiot,” Indra says. “I recommend that you shouldn’t do anything idiotic if you don’t want to be called that.”

            “It sounded like a insult even without translation,” Wells points out.

            The room they lead us to contains a round table that could have functioned for a map or maybe that’s what it was originally.

            “Wait here,” Kane says before leaving the room.

Shortly after he leaves us, Anya says, “ _Ryder, Vane, find the murderer and his accomplice_.”

            They both bow and walk out of the room. So Anya isn’t waiting for approval. Speaking of which, I don’t want to leave without the murderer either. As for Murphy, he is considered an accessory to the crime and committed false imprisonment, a crime punishable by ten years’ incarceration. However, they might be lenient on him considering that he gave Anya some information and that he unsuccessfully tried to stop the murder.

            It’s been a few minutes until Clarke comes in, followed by her mother. Abby’s eyes rake across us before demanding to father, “What’s the meaning of this?”

            Judging by her tight lips, she knows why we are here.

            “What do you want?” Clarke demands, standing next to Wells.

            “The Commander, as merciful as she is, wanted to give you the choice of handing over the boy or risk having the blockade go back into effect,” father says, looking at Clarke before turning his eyes to Wells. “It is obvious that you want this truce to take on Mount Weather’s parasites but we cannot have it if the murderer of my daughter and seventeen others still breathes.”

            Clarke opens her mouth to speak –

            “No, you are not taking him,” Clarke’s mother argues.

            “You are willing to protect a mass murderer?” Indra demands, her body shaking. “You are willing to protect someone who murdered children and elders?”

            “But that wasn’t Finn,” Clarke says.

            Anya raises her eyebrow. “What sorcery did he put on you to cause you to defend scum like him?”

            “Let us try him,” Kane says. “We held trials on the Ark before.”

            “But you’re going to clear him again like the last time,” father says. “If you’re not going to treat him like the mass murderer he is, hand him over.”

            “No,” Abby says. “He was just a scared kid looking for his friends.”

            Judging by Wells’s expression, he knows that we’ll counter that easily.

            “A scared kid, really?” Anya demands. “He and his accomplice staked out the village during the day, he asks his accomplice if he knew how much ammo they had, they go in at night when everyone is asleep, the murderer drops a torch into the food store which wakes everyone up, he takes them hostage when he’s caught, he almost killed a girl before his accomplice convinced him not to, and when he turned his back, Bristol leaves the pen and it takes eight bullets to kill her. Then he kills seventeen more when they leave their pen. Scared kid? More like methodical murderer.”

            “How can you prove that he did all that?” Abby demands as Ryder and Vane enter the room with the murderer and Murphy in tow.

            “They are not lying,” Murphy says. “All that stuff actually happened.”

            Abby turns to look at the source and says, “Tristan, command your soldiers to unhand those boys now.”

            Father ignores her. “Take the murderer out to the riders. The accomplice stays here.”

            “No, you are not taking him,” Abby says.

            “Mrs. Griffin, if we keep him, he’s still going to die, if we hand him over he’s going to die,” says Wells. “Whatever we do, he’s going to die.”

            “Wells,” Clarke says, like she’s appalled.

            “I’m just being realistic,” says Wells.

            I could tell that there is more that he wants to say but isn’t going to. Probably doesn’t want to fracture the alliance.

            “Like I said, take the murderer outside but keep the accomplice here,” father orders.

            Clarke and the murderer exchange a gaze before he’s ushered from the room.

            “Now, did the murderer ask how much ammo you had?” Indra asks Murphy.

            “Yeah, Finn asked me that,” Murphy answered. “Heck, he didn’t take what I had to say into consideration when I suggested that it wasn’t big enough to hold them and that they didn’t look like warriors. He thought they were still held captive in some ways.”

            “That boy has PTSD," Abby argues. "He was mentally fragile at that point."

            “Post-traumatic Stress Disorder is no excuse for killing eighteen unarmed people,” father says. “I’m confident the others were no longer the same but they didn’t barge into villages and shoot people trying to escape from captivity.”

            “He’s just a kid,” Abby argues.

            “He’s a _grown adult_ ,” Anya points out. “Stop trying to protect him and stop treating him like he’s eight months old.”

            Abby stands back and Kane says something to her. She never leaves her gaze but she nods. From what I’m guessing, he told her that she wasn’t going to go anywhere in the argument.

            “What are you going to do with Murphy?” Wells asks.

            “False imprisonment is usually punishable by incarnation,” Indra answers. “According to witnesses, he unsuccessfully tried to convince him to stop.”

            “With that and with the information he provided to Anya, he’s going to be given something lighter,” father continues, looking at Murphy. “Three days’ work detail       with food stock at Brighton will suffice it.”

            Murphy snorts. “That’s better than getting water boarded and having my nails ripped off.”

            “Quiet,” Indra says to him. “Don’t make us regret giving you leniency.”

            “Take him outside,” Anya says to Ryder. “He starts tomorrow morning after breakfast.”

            Ryder nods before escorting Murphy from the room. Father looks at Wells and Clarke. “The execution happens after sundown,” father says, “and it’s not a suggestion that you watch. However, there is to be no contact between _Skaikru_ and _Trikru_ during the day tomorrow until after he’s executed.”

            No contact between _Skaikru_ and _Trikru_ until tomorrow night. Possibly so that anyone can’t convince us to spare him. I could see why.

            Father gives Wells and Clarke a nod before leaving the room. Anya follows, though she stands at the door. “How I see it, the children in this building can live safely with him out of the picture.”

            She walks away and I spare Wells a glance before following Indra out of the room. Inside that room, I could hear the sound of someone wailing.

            Mournful and loud enough to shatter the Earth.

            Anya says that Clarke was horrified by the atrocities committed and here she defended him. I wonder what that smarmy bastard did to manipulate her into thinking his life was worth a damn.

 

* * *

 

            When we get back to Brighton Village, hardly anyone is out on the pathways. It’s past dinnertime and judging by the fact that only a few residential cabins have the windows lit by candles, most of the village denizens are sound asleep.

            The murderer, who’s blindfolded, is led to the prison cabin. Murphy is going to put in the isolation cabin, which is located in the punishment block of the village. He’ll stay there for three days until his punishment is up.

            “ _You say that what he did horrified her, Anya_ ,” father says. “ _Do you think there is an explanation for her change of stance?_ ”

            “ _He gaslit her, Tristan_ ,” Anya answers. “ _That’s the only thing I can think of. Since he did this heinous act out of obsession, he most likely put it on her shoulders by telling her that he did it for her_.”

            Since he blamed Clarke for his infidelity, it doesn’t surprise me that he would blame her for killing eighteen innocent people in a village.

            Indra spits in disgust, “ _Men like that are weak_.”

            “ _Perhaps you should care to know that he cheated on his original girlfriend with Clarke as soon as he reached to the ground_ ,” I say. “ _He didn’t know when to put it in his pants_.”

            “ _He what?_ ” Anya demands.

            “ _Cheated on his girlfriend with Clarke_ ,” I repeat. “ _About a week later she comes down in the space pod, he keeps at it, and defended it with the lame excuse of not seeing her again_.”

            “ _Hopefully she finds a better man then that poor excuse of life_ ,” Anya scoffs. “ _Once he’s dead, she’ll find someone better._ ”

            I know that she practically broke up with Finn and punched him in the nose but she might have taken him back since then. She might have forgiven him for his transgressions before the TonDC Massacre. I remember that she said that he was her only family.       

            If she simply forgave him because she felt like he was her only anchor that she didn’t want to lose, she needs to know that there are better people that she could claim as her family. That’s what friends are for.

 

* * *

 

            When I get in bed that night, my mind doesn’t shut off. There is a constant flow of thoughts, ranging from tomorrow’s execution of the murderer to Mount Weather. The families of the murdered will meet tomorrow morning after breakfast. Mainly one from each family will volunteer to take a turn with the knife after the murderer is torched. All in the order who was killed. So, I’ll go first since Bristol was the first to die.

            Eighteen murdered and he’ll suffer eighteen deaths before Lexa ends it with her sword. And the Sky People will watch.

            Also the offer for both groups to take on the Mountain. The most part of me is skeptical, as our clan made a few attempts to contain them in the past during two decades. All of them failed technically. Seventy years after the bombs, we sent an assassin to kill their leader as we thought that only their leader was the only problem. The assassin didn’t come out but the attempt must have worked because the reapings of clan residents ceased for five years before starting up again. No matter how hard we tried, Mount Weather never crumbled.

            Yet a small part of it is hopeful. A small part of me craves for the closure that was denied from my family after mother was taken by the Mountain. I want that closure and if the only way to defeat the Mountain is to work with the Sky People, I’ll take it. I’ll take anything that could help provide closure even if it’s impossible. Father could have just allowed the Sky People to keep the murderer and die of dehydration but he went with Anya and Indra to persuade them before ultimately taking him out by force.

            He craves justice for the death of my sister that I know but he also wants closure for what happened to mother. He doesn’t like the Sky People though he’s the person who’s willing to set aside personal beef for the sake of war.

            One question: if this succeeds and the Mountain’s shadow ceases to cast it’s shadow on these woods, will things be different or will they go back to the way it was before Wells and Clarke offered the truce? I can’t afford the latter.

 

* * *

 

            “ _Tonight, you will be able to release your anger and have closure_ ,” Lexa says to the eighteen families – including my own – that are assembled at the village school cabin after breakfast. “ _A dark shadow has hung over this clan due to the slaughter of innocents and in two days, we will lay murderer and murdered to rest with fire_.”

            When someone dies, we have a ceremonial cremation. That way the bodies can be disposed of without fear of decomposition and so that they won’t take forever returning to the Earth. Ceremonial cremations are a Trikru thing, as other clans have different methods of disposing of their dead.

            “ _In the order in which the innocent were killed, one member of that person’s family will step up and volunteer to take a cut with a knife_ ,” Lexa announces. “ _Bristol of Brighton Village_.”

            I look at both my father and brother. Each nod at me in encouragement. I guess Nigel doesn’t want to do it because he wouldn’t have the heart and father wouldn’t want to do it because he knows that he would inflict the gash that would end the murderer’s life. I stand from the bench and approach the bowl standing on the table next to Lexa.

            I take my knife from my belt and toss it in. Lexa nods and I go back to my seat.

            “ _Artigas of TonDC_ ,” Lexa announces.

            Artgas’s mother, a hard faced woman with black curls, leaves the seat next to her husband and she tosses the knife in the bowl.

            Each name announced and one person stands up to put their knife into the bowl. Upon my observation, I noticed that when Lexa named a child fatality, it’s was always the mother’s that offered to volunteer to cut the murderer. No one should ever underestimate the wrath of a mother who lost their child.

            When the last person offers to their knife, most of the people who volunteered to cut up the murderer were women; in addition to six men.

 

* * *

 

            Going into the food store to replenish my provisions bag, I see Murphy tossing fruit into various barrels. Muttering and grumbling to himself.

            “Are you putting them in the right barrel?” I ask him as I take out the bin of hazelnuts.

            Murphy glances at me and snorts before turning to his task. “Yeah."

            We don’t talk any further and as I turn to leave, Murphy says, “He’s going to get the whole nine yards before you kill him, isn’t he?”

            I pause. His terminology is too easy to translate.

            “Yes,” I say. “With eighteen deaths, he should feel them. When it’s time to cut him, I’ll be the first one and it’s going to be extremely painful against his burnt skin. I want him to feel what Bristol felt when she took her final breath.”

            “I didn’t want him to do that,” he says. “I tried to stop him.”

            “I know but he didn’t stop,” I say heavily.

            “For a moment I thought that you were going to criticize me for not trying hard enough,” he replies. “That’s what Bellamy and Octavia told me.”

            “He was unstable,” I sigh. “No one else would have been able to…”

            The image of him shooting escaping villagers and the sound of the bullets remain fresh in my mind. I don’t doubt that it will be branded forever in my brain. Just thinking about it causes my eyes to water.

            “I just…I keep thinking about it and I rewind everything,” I say, my voice breaking. “I should have left my station to investigate if there was anyone outside the village.”

            “Hey, don’t put it on yourself,” he says, his hand on my shoulder. “If you did that, he would have held you hostage and more people would have been killed. He asked me if I knew how much ammo we had.”

            I don’t understand how Abby could be in denial that he came into the village with the intent of killing just a few people. Or, it could be that she doesn’t like our brand of justice and that’s why she wanted to protect him. When Sky People have been floated for lesser crimes and when she turned in her husband.

 

* * *

 

            As the sun reaches the horizon, we march towards Camp Jaha; with the murderer in the prison wagon and with Beaufort and Foster carrying the wooden pole which he’ll be tied to.

            By the time Lexa’s tent was directed, Sky People were already lining up the fence to watch. It’s not like they were given the choice to watch. They have to. At the front, I thought I make out Wells, Clarke, Bellamy, and Raven.

            They are not going to risk coming across the fence. With the shouting from our end and the tension, it would be dangerous to even prevent the murderer’s death. My blood burns in my veins and satisfaction fills me as Beaufort and Ronan fix the pole to the ground.

            Yet beneath that nostalgia and bloodlust in my heart, something else stirs. Causing me to glance at Wells’s figure.

            “ _Indra is going to torch him_ ,” father says. “ _After that, you will dig into his flesh with the knife. For Bristol_.”

            “ _Yes, for Bristol_ ,” I say, looking back at Camp Jaha. I have never been this conflicted before. _Jus Drein Jus Daun_ has been part of my life since the day my mother gave birth to me and I know that Bristol will never be fully avenged if I don’t take part in this yet, when I inflict the first gash, it will taint Wells’s view of me.

            He never said anything about our methods but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t approve.

            “ _The murderer is going to be escorted at any moment_ ,” Lexa says. “ _Get into position_.”

            The grieving file into a line next to Lexa’s tent; with me sandwiched between Indra and Yasmin. As Wight hands out the knives, I thought I see Clarke making her way towards us.

            What does she think she’s doing?

            “ _She should get back in the fence_ ,” Anya mutters. “ _She’s going to make things worse for the boy_.”

            She undoubtedly will. His death is deserved and inevitable.

            Clarke walks through the maze of warriors and past the line of grieving family members and she glances at us before coming face to face with father, who has taken a spear from someone and is pointing at her abdomen.

            “I’m here to talk to your Commander,” Clarke says.

            Father says nothing but scowls as he presses the point into her abdomen.

            “Let me through,” Clarke says.

            Just turn around and go Clarke. You’re not helping my anxiety any. You’re not helping his situation any.

            “Let her pass!” Lexa orders.

            Father looks at Lexa before withdrawing the spear. Clarke slowly walks towards Lexa and I walk closer to get a better take of the conversation.

            “You bleed for nothing,” Lexa tells Clarke. “You cannot stop this.”

            No, she can’t. Whatever she does, he will die anyway.

            “No,” says Clarke. “Only you can.”

            The shouting starts up again and I look to see Ryder and Ashton leading the bound murderer to the pole. The sight of him causes my blood to boil once more and bloodlust fills every inch of my body. The thought of my knife digging into his burnt flesh as his red blood pours out is so gratifying but Wells is going to be watching.

            Clarke looks at him and he looks back, only to be pushed further to the wooden pole.

            “Show my people how powerful you are,” Clarke says to Lexa. “Show them that you can be merciful. Show them you’re not a savage.”

            The blood rushes to my face. Savage, eh? That’s rich coming out of a girl who burned three hundred of my fellow warriors to a blackened crisp and who came from a society where people have been floated into space for just petty crimes and for having a second child.

            Looking around, I see that Anya looks like she’s about done with the situation as do father, Indra, and Titus.

            “We are what we are,” says Lexa.

            Clarke looks as they are beginning to restrain him to the wooden pole before quickly looking at Lexa. “Then I’m a killer,” says Clarke. “I burned three hundred of your people. I slit a man’s throat and watched him die. I’m soaked in Grounder blood. Take me.”

            “But Finn is guilty,” Lexa states.

            “No,” says Clarke. “He did it for me.”

            From my peripheral vision Anya side glares at the murderer while father rolls his eyes.

            “He did it for me,” Clarke says tearfully.

            “Then he dies for you,” Lexa replies.

            The murderer is left alone in at pole as silence reins from Clarke. Gustus hands Indra the burning torch. The blood pounds in my ear as my sweaty hand grips the knife handle. Any time now…

            “Can I say goodbye?” Clarke asks.

            Lexa doesn’t give a verbal answer but she gives a slight nod. Clarke goes to the pole and I watch as she kisses and hugs him. His face drops down to her shoulder and as she backs away, a dark spot is present on his abdomen.

            Clarke’s eyes are filled with tears but the blood covered blade held in her blood soaked hand catches my attention.        

Shock fills every fiber in my body and I feel the knife slip from my hand; oblivious that it has fallen to the ground. She killed him. She actually killed him.

            My thoughts are so jumbled in my brain that I don’t know whether I should be furious at her not giving me the chance to avenge Bristol. Or relieved that I wouldn’t be tainted for Wells after all. I don’t know which one I should feel.

            The crowd erupts in shouts and father takes a step; poising the spear at Clarke; ready to throw it.

            “ _It’s done_ ,” Lexa says, putting her hand up to stop the mob.

            From a distance, I hear Raven cry out a scream before it turns into sobbing. I feel my legs lose all feeling before my knees buckle. Someone grabs my arms before I could fall to the ground.


	21. Chapter Twenty One

They allowed the Guardsmen to open the gate and I see that Raven is the first one to exit. She is not running but when she gets a little closer, I could see that her gait is not as perfect as it was. She walks with a slight limp and on one of her legs is a brace. I keep my distance as I don’t want to be further reminded of my actions towards her that resulted in her disability.

Clarke goes into Lexa’s empty tent as I pick up my knife from the ground. I go by Lexa’s tent and sit next to it. Taking a rock and sharpening the blade with it. They remove him from the post and place him on the ground. Raven fast walks to his body before kneeling by him. Her body shaking in tears.

Abby and Marcus approach the tent with Wells right behind them.

“Is Clarke in there, Costia dear?” Abby asks me.

I just point to the tent with my knife before continuing my task. I would appreciate it if she wouldn’t call me that again. Coming from her it’s condescending. They go in with Wells following them. Probably so he could comfort his best friend because I thought I heard her having a breakdown in there.

Gustus enters the tent with Lexa, father, Indra, Anya, and Titus right behind him as Raven casts her tear stricken face at me. I deserve the hatred she might feel for me and though I deserve every word she will give me, now is not the best time since she’s paralyzed by grief.

I turn to walk away –

“Costia, wait,” Raven says.

Looking back at her, I could see that while her face is stricken with grief yet there are no signs of anger on her face. Cautiously, I take a step towards her.

“Raven, I’m…” I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disable you.”

Raven wipes her eyes. She doesn’t say anything.

“If you hate me for it, it’s okay,” I say. “I deserve it.”

Raven looks at me. “I don’t hate you. I mean I did right after your heel face turn and right after you shot me but I don’t hate you anymore. Not after seeing the look on your face when you saw me strapped to the operation table. And Wells told me that you didn’t mean to. I trust his word. In fact, I forgive you for everything that has happened.”

She forgives me? She forgives me for stabbing her in the back and shooting her in the spine?

“Seems like Bellamy and Octavia don’t but their feelings are valid,” I say. “I deserve it anyway.”

“Costia, I don’t want you to carry this guilt on your shoulders, especially if we’re going to be allies,” Raven says. “You don’t need to carry the self-loathing anymore.”

I nod. It’s noble of her to forgive me but I don’t deserve it.

Anya comes out of the tent. “ _Pack up everything and dismantle the tents. The trip to TonDC begins shortly._ ”

Must be that Wells and Clarke agreed to the ceremonial cremation. I’m positive that Abby and Kane are not thrilled.

“What did she say?” Raven asks.

“We are traveling to TonDC to cremate the bodies,” I say. “So they we can send them back to the Earth.”

Raven’s eyes swell up more. “Probably part of this clan and name bereavement that your people practice. We can’t lay him to rest.”

“I’m sorry,” is all I can say. I look to see Clarke emerge from the tent and heading towards Raven. This is going to be ugly. “I’m going to make sure we have herbal remedies and antibiotics. Can’t afford to have anyone risk death of infection on a day long trip.”

I walk away and go into one of the tents where some of the supplies are located. Gansey is carrying a barrel of whetstones and I walk past him to the table where the medicinal supplies are located. I examine the contents, making sure that they are at an adequate amount before snapping shut the cases before carrying them out the door.

Approaching the wagon, I see Wells conversing with father and Indra while Kane is talking to Lexa.

As I place the medicinal boxes in the carriage, I see Anya and Abby talking. Judging by Anya’s folded arms, the conversation is not going well.

“If only you knew how transparent you are,” Anya argues, cocking her head to the side. “I think I understand you perfectly. You were brought up to believe that this planet was uninhabited. A belief that you perpetuated to your children. Because you thought that the planet was void of life, you think that we shouldn’t be here. And since we shouldn’t be existing, our lives are expendable to you. It’s not an issue of ethics you have; you are just being a hypocrite.”

            That’s Anya. Anya is very good at telling people how it is and calling them out on their malarkey. Abby needs serious ice for that burn. Anya walks away and I push the boxes farther into the wagon before approaching father, Wells, and Indra.

“The medical supplies are all accounted for,” I say. “Can’t risk anyone getting sick with something along the way.”

“Good,” says father. “Go find your brother and make sure that he doesn’t leave unarmed. We never know if we might encounter Reapers on our way to TonDC.”

“Yes, father,” I say before walking off.

I hear additional footsteps and see that its Wells that is joining me.

“Coming to check on me?” I ask him.

“Mostly,” he says. He sighs. “I’m sorry for what happened with Bristol. I wanted to tell you earlier but I didn’t get the chance to.”

I take a deep breath. I knew he was going to express his condolences though I didn’t expect them soon because of the process regarding the truce and the alliance.

“Thank you,” I say. “That means a lot.”

Up ahead I see Nigel and Corrine nearby a wagon; taking the rolled-up rugs from Anton and tossing them into the wagon.

“Nigel!” I shout as we walk closer to our direction. After his head turns to my direction, I say, “Father wants you to take your sword with you in case we come across any Reapers.”

“I already have it on me,” he says rolling his eyes. He mutters something under his breath.

“That is my brother in case you should know,” I say. “Father removed him from Anya’s unit because he almost got killed.”

“What did he do?” Wells asks me.

“Long story short, he let in a deceiving Azgeda warrior into our territory and nearly got himself killed,” I answer. “Father placed him in his unit to keep a eye on him.”

“I like to hear the long story,” says Wells.

“Nigel might die of embarrassment though,” I say as Nigel comes closer.

“I’m going to tell father that I have my sword so that I can get him off my back.” Nigel looks at Wells. “You’re one of the Sky People, are you?”

“Yes and I heard a bit about you after I landed on the ground,” says Wells, offering his hand. “Wells Jaha.”

Nigel takes it without hesitation and shakes it. “I’m Nigel, but you know that already. So, what prompted you to fall from your Space Castle?”

Wells hesitates and drags his foot on the ground. He looks at me and says, “I wanted to tell you, Costia but Clarke didn’t trust you with the information. In fact, she told the others not to say anything about it.”

“About what?” I ask. I knew there was a reason why they all came down here but I never actually thought to pursue that question. Looking at it I should had.

“They sent me, Clarke, and ninety-eight others down here to test the Earth’s survivability because the life support on the Ark was failing,” Wells answers. “That’s why Clarke’s father got executed. He found the flaw last year and they executed him because he was going to go public with the information.”

It’s like someone smashed my skull open and drained the contents of my brain. Clarke didn’t want me to know that the real reason they came down was that the life support was failing? Her mother turned in her husband because he was going to public with that information when she should have known better since people were being floated left and right for minor infractions?

People shout in discomfort and anger, with the word _traitor_ being distinguishable. I look to see Lincoln walking towards the group of people packing items, with Bellamy, Raven, and Octavia near him. Lincoln’s presence was predictably going to be met with a hostile reaction.

“ _Take him out of here_ ,” Lexa orders.

Rangers move in on Lincoln; with Bellamy and Octavia springing in front of him to protect him.

“Wait!” Wells shouts. “He should come with us.”

Everyone looks at Wells strangely. As if he was speaking a foreign language.

“I apologize but he was exiled for pursuing sexual relations with someone belonging to the enemy,” Titus says. “He escaped execution after he refused to leave.”

“That was before the truce,” Wells points out. “That was when we were your enemy. What he did shouldn’t matter anymore, now that we are civil. This happened at his village and he has every right to go.”

Father, Anya, and Indra exchange looks and whisper to each other while Titus consults with a pondering Lexa. She and Anya exchange a look before Lexa looks at Wells.

“Alright, we’ll take him back,” Lexa answers. “But he has a mark on him. Only due to this alliance he will remain with his clan.”

“What mark exactly?” Octavia argues, stepping forward.

I approach Octavia and say, “Don’t push it with Lexa. She can get quite nasty if you show her even the slightest disrespect.”

I love Lexa. She’s like a sister to me and everything feels partially unresolved but Lexa is also the ruthless Commander who punishes people severely for insubordination. There’s a reason why people steer clear from the area below the balcony window of the Commander’s Tower.

Octavia glares but she doesn’t say anything.

I go to father and Anya, saying, “Everything could have been avoided if we knew why they came down.”

“What are you talking about, Costia?” father asks. “Did they say something?”

“Apparently they didn’t trust me to know that the reason they came down was because the life support on their space home was failing,” I say. “They sent them down first to test the Earth’s survivability and with limited knowledge about Earth Skills.”

“What?” Anya says, her face flushing red. “It could have been avoided. If we knew before the flares we could have integrated them into our clan sooner.”

Father doesn’t say anything though he turns to look at Abby, who’s with her daughter and a oriental woman, and glares at her. “She sent her daughter down to a planet they weren’t sure was safe for human life and she had the gall to criticize me for treating you as the warrior you are.”

 

* * *

 

We left when the sky was still black but as we continued on, the sky lightened and gradually the sun peeks above the horizon. Along the trail of combined Skaikru and Trikru, both groups stick to their peers; though Lincoln and I are an exception. Raven is riding on the wagon carrying the body of the murderer.

Most likely to avoid contact with Clarke.

“You still think this truce is a bad idea, don’t you?” Clarke asks Bellamy.

“I think we’re wasting our time with politics while our friends are in trouble,” says Bellamy.

“If we didn’t use politics, it would be harder to focus on getting our friends out with the clan watching us like a hawk and treating our every move like a threat when we have other options,” Wells says. “Besides, we’re not the only people to have our people held captive in that Mountain.”

“Wells is right,” Clarke says. “Also, we need their army to get into Mount Weather and you know that.”

“Their army has been getting their ass kicked by Mount Weather forever,” Bellamy says. “What we need is an inside man. Someone to be our eyes and ears.”

I roll my eyes and say, “In case you don’t know, our clan has tried at least four times seventy years after the bombs to take on Mount Weather and yes, one of them was an inside man but he was drained before he could do anything.”

“So you actually tried taking them on,” Bellamy says, interest in his tone, but though not hostile, it’s guarded. “What were the other three things your clan did?”

“First attempt was biological warfare,” I answer. “It most likely didn’t work because the attack group was ambushed by the Mountain Men.”

“And they sterilize everything that comes in and keep out contaminated objects,” Clarke says.

“The second attempt we sent an assassin into Mount Weather, because we thought that the only problem was the leader,” I continue. “The assassin never came out but we assumed it worked because the reaping ceased for five years until it started up again.”

“Perhaps someone wanted to go back to harvesting blood of people against their will and usurped the new leader for that reason,” Wells deduces.

“That’s what we assumed,” I confirm. “Then we did the inside man thing and that failed. Fourth attempt was a full frontal assault. The Mountain Men responded with Acid Fog. Killed three hundred and fifty people.”

“Then you gave up just like that?” Bellamy says.

“What was the point if they kept using tech to thwart our attempts?” I ask. “Everything we do, they stop us at every turn but if you think you are some special snowflake and think you can succeed getting in without drained, you’re mistaken. The only way for your plan to work is if someone among them freed you and the odds are slim to none. The Mountain Men only care about themselves and everyone outside is expendable.”

Clarke bites her lip before saying, “See. That’s why I don’t want you to go. It’s too dangerous.”

“Clarke, if you can get out, I can get in,” Bellamy says.

“I can’t lose you too, okay?” Clarke replies, looking at Bellamy.

We’re quiet as we walk down the gravel path; the sun casting light on the trees. Everything is tranquil as it always has been in the forests.

“When do you think it’s safe for your father to know the extent of our friendship?” he asks. “I mean, I know we kissed twice but that doesn’t make for a serious relationship.”

I look back and look at my father who’s riding on his horse with Anya beside him; though Lexa, Titus, and Gustus are riding in front of them. Too far back to see whether they are having a conversation or not.

“He’s going to find out anyway,” I say. “That is one thing that can’t be hidden. He was fully aware of my past relationship. He didn’t mind that my first partner was the Commander when he knew she was supposed to be celibate.”

.“Wait. Hold the phone,” says Clarke, her eyebrows raised. “So you’re saying you and Lexa were once an item?”

I nod. “We were best friends first before it blossomed into something more but we ended it five years ago. We’re just friends now.”

“Why did you end it? Did something happen?” Wells asks me.

“The Commander is supposed to be celibate throughout his or her incumbency,” I answer. “Romantic relationships, regardless if it’s either just emotional or sexual, is forbidden. They say that love is weakness to the Commander’s power. That romantic feelings to another individual will cloud their judgment when making a political decision.”

Bellamy shakes his head. “When you said that the Commander sent you to our camp, ex-girlfriend never registered in my mind.”

“That is because I never told you as that was irrelevant information,” I say.

 

* * *

 

By nightfall, we set up camp by the cluster of buildings that are a few miles away from TonDC. As we pitch up the tents, I notice that the Sky People have pitched their tents a half a mile from ours. This demonstrated their distrust of us and I could say the same for us. Early into an alliance after everything has happened, it’s bound to be shaky.

As soon as someone begins to boil soup for dinner, Wells approaches our collection of tents. Though Abby is a few feet from him.

“Wells, come back,” Abby says to him. “I don’t think that they want anyone else to join.”

“He’s okay,” father says to her. “He’s not hurting anyone.”

“Oh, it’s just that, I thought it would be better if he stayed with us, because we’re his people,” Abby answers.

“Communication between both groups will help this alliance,” Anya reminds her. “If we don’t talk to each other, it will fracture and it will break before we could bust our people out of that Mountain.”

“I see your point,” says Abby stiffly before going back to her side of the camp. Passing her are Clarke and Bellamy who are joining our collection of tents; though the latter shows hesitation. He still doesn’t trust us.

“Decided to follow his gesture?” father asks as they both take a seat.

“If Wells thinks it’s a good idea to sit here, we should trust his judgment,” Bellamy answers.

Father turns his gaze to Bellamy. “I am surprised you are walking upright,” father says with a smirk. “Usually people are six feet under if they make the mistake of attacking me from the front.”

            “I don’t want to imagine what they look like after you are done with them,” Bellamy says snidely. “Considering that you done a number on my face.”

            “I would watch your tongue if I were you,” father threatens, “because I wouldn’t hesitate to rip that tongue from your mouth a second time.”

            Bellamy scowls at the threat and father just turns away from him since he didn’t get the desired result. As Indra returns to our collection of tents and Lexa comes out of hers, Clarke spaces out like she sees something.

            Something that sends her chills.

            “Costia, mind if you tell me the long version of that story involving your brother and the Ice Nation warrior?” Wells asks me.

            Nigel groans and turns over in his blanket. “Please, don’t tell it. I’ll die of embarrassment.”

            I chuckle. “Anya told the Commander, so it would not be different if I told Wells.”

            Nigel sits right up; his face drained of blood. “You told the Commander?” he demands to Anya. “Why?”

            “I have always told Lexa what was going on in my unit,” Anya answers. “She always asked those questions.”

            “If it makes you feel better, Costia repeated the story to me a few days later,” Lexa continues.

            My brother grabs his blanket and pillow. “I am not hungry. I’m going to bed so don’t bother waking me up when the soup is ready.”

            He walks to the tent that he, father, and I share with Anya.

            Bellamy looks after him and says, “Guess being a warrior doesn’t stop him from acting his age.”

            “He’s a warrior but he has that trusting streak,” Indra says. “Something that his father says it could get him killed.”

            “Nigel nearly got himself killed because of that,” Anya says. “He would have been dead if I wasn’t there.”

            “As incompetent as he is, he still has some use,” father says. “He’s good at preventing the enemy from leaving during battle.”

            “If he’s an incompetent warrior, why do you keep him?” Clarke asks.

            “We’re a clan of over two thousand people,” father answers. “We need all the bodies we can get to throw at the enemy.”

            “He’s only a boy,” Bellamy says. “He shouldn’t be fighting at the age he is.”

            “When we train our warriors, we work closely with them,” Anya says. “The mentor has to keep tabs on their Second. To make sure they are in a position to ensure their survival. Your people just dumped you here without any resources to help adapt.”

            “Nor do we execute people for petty things and for having another child,” I point out.

 

* * *

 

            It’s been five hours since I fell asleep in my area of the tent. I snapped my eyes shut and think of pages of pages of books that I have always lost myself to help me sleep. However, thinking such thoughts doesn’t help for I find myself standing on a snowbank strewn with arrows and bodies. In front of me is the murderer with that assault rifle. His eyes black and soulless like the last nightmare.

            I have no time to react when he shoots and my eyes fly open. I bolt right up. My copy of _A Song of Ice and Fire_ falling from my lap. I look next to me to see Nigel still a few feet away from me. Curled up in his blankets and out like a candle. Father and Anya sleep across from us and I feel like they are trying hard to not move closer to each other.

            I take a deep breath and slip on my boots before venturing outside. Some of the guards are sleeping on the ground. I notice that Bellamy has retreated back to the Sky People collection of tents while Clarke is sleeping in the gap. Wells is sleeping much closer to our collection of tents.

            Is it worth the risk? Lincoln has a mark on him because of his relationship with Octavia and the same could happen to me. However, the odds of them finding out about our relationship are high considering the alliance. I take a deep breath and approach his sleeping bag before slipping into it.

            My movement seems to stir him awake. He turns over and cracks a smile. “Can’t sleep?”

            “I tried but I couldn’t,” I say, nestling my head against his chest.

            “We are right out in the open,” he says. “You said earlier that your father wouldn’t mind but what about the others in your clan? The alliance is a few days fresh and everything is shaky.”

            I take his hand and kiss it. “What is the point of hiding when they will find out anyway?”


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Narrative wise, I didn’t think it was fair that Raven got tortured and almost executed for something she didn’t do while Finn got the easy way out after murdering eighteen people.

The next morning, all of us wake up to a breakfast of eggs and ham. Nothing seemed different after last night since Wells and I were sleeping in the same sleeping bag. They probably didn’t say anything for fear of my father’s reaction.

            I look to see Anya sitting next to Raven. Judging by Raven’s tears and Anya’s sympathy, I know what they are talking about. Anya isn’t sympathetic because Raven lost someone. She is sympathetic because she knows that the murderer was Raven’s only family and she figured that Raven could do better.

            Raven deserves better than that scum who ever lived.

            Abby approaches them and I see Anya stand up. I can’t hear the words clearly but I could tell that the conversation is not on friendly terms. She spits on the ground before approaching our collection of tents.

            “ _That woman aggravates me_ ,” Anya says. “ _I would rather be hung upside down and drained of my blood then hearing her talk_.”           

            “ _I understand your sentiment_ ,” father says in response. “ _Her hypocrisy is astounding but I shouldn’t be surprised_.”

            I couldn’t disagree less. Clarke was one thing but her mother is ten times worse. Her hypocrisy knows no bounds.

            Everyone leaves the camp after we put out the fires. We don’t disassemble the tents because we’ll come back to the tents by nightfall. Especially if it’s only a ten minute walk. Ryder, Beaufort, Corrine, and Vane carry the stretcher containing the murderer’s body with four others surrounding them.

            “Don’t expect a warm welcome when you step into the village,” father says. “Everyone is still angry over the massacre.”

            “I wouldn’t bet on it,” Bellamy replies, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

            “I wasn’t talking to you, boy,” father scoffs as he walks ahead to be with Anya and Indra; with me following suit.

            The Skaikru walk behind us, talking quietly and amongst themselves. I look behind me to see Clarke look at a collection of trees like she saw something before looking ahead.

            When we arrive at the entrance to TonDC, someone shouts, “ _Open the gate!_ ” before I hear it slide open. Lexa, Gustus, and Titus dismount from their horses as Pippin comes with the crate to deposit weapons in.

            Gustus faces the Skaikru and says, “Weapons.”

            Lincoln hands him his knife as he explains, “We need to disarm before we enter.”

            Clarke hands over her knife, followed by Bellamy handing over his rifle in reluctance, and Kane hands over his rifle. When Gustus approaches Raven, she doesn’t move, prompting him to take a knife from her backpack strap and removing her rifle from her arm. He proceeds to remove weapons from every place he could think of. Suggesting his pressed lips, it’s like something is not going as planned from him. Especially with Anya watching him like a hawk for some reason.

            “ _All clear, Commander_ ,” Gustus tells Lexa

            Lexa turns to lead the way and Gustus, Anya, father, Titus, and Indra join her flank. I walk next to Wells, biting my lip. Father says that the reception for the Sky People will not be warm because of what happened. That shouldn’t come as a surprise.

            “ _Commander! Commander! Welcome back!_ ” someone shouts in elation but as we walk further, the mood changes from elation to fury and one could taste the tension.

            “ _Why have you bought them here?_ ”

            “ _Death to the Sky People_!”

            While residents are around us like a maze, they threateningly move their weapons but don’t attack. Even so, I position myself on Wells’s left side so he doesn’t get attacked.

            We stop and I see that Sindri – who lost both his wife and son to the massacre – stand in our way. “ _Sky People took everything from me: my wife, my child!_ ” says Sindri.

            “ _Move aside!_ ” orders Titus.

            “ _Murderers are not welcome here!_ ” Sindri argues.

            Lexa turns to Gustus and gives him a nod. He steps forward and punches Sindri to the ground. There is nothing but silence reigning from each corner of the village. The horror is visible on the faces of our guests and I hear Wells say, “We have to do something. He’s going to kill him.”

            This prompts Clarke to approach Lexa and she says, “Commander, stop him. Please. They’ll blame us for this too.”

            Lexa looks at Clarke for a second before ordering, “ _Let him live_.”

            Gustus gets off of Sindri and someone helps him up. Lexa turns around, having our audience.

            “The Sky People march with us now,” Lexa says. “Anyone who tries to stop that will pay with their life.”

            The threat in Lexa’s voice is obvious. If you try to disobey her, she doesn’t care who you are. She’ll execute you regardless of status. That’s part of the impartiality thing of being a Commander.

            She leads the way to where the bodies are stored; wrapped in cloth to protect them from the elements. Among them is the body of my sister. I feel tears prick from my eyes and I wipe them away with my fingers. Today, she will join the Earth with the other eighteen that were killed.

            Family members are called to place the bodies of the dead around the funeral pyre while the murderer lies on top. Father and I place Bristol against the walls of the pyre. Tears flood my vision as my body shakes. No. Bristol shouldn’t be cremated to join the Earth. She should be alive. She had her whole life ahead of her and it was taken away.

            I feel someone pat my back before I’m enfolded into my father’s arms. “It’s okay to be sad today. Nobody is going to stop you,” father consoles, his voice slightly breaking.

            “I miss her so much,” I sob as Nigel joins us.

            “I miss her too,” father says. “She will be put to rest after today.”

            I swallow hard and take a deep breath. I wipe my eyes on my sleeve as Nigel pats my back. Nigel doesn’t say anything. Probably afraid that he’ll open the floodgates again with the wrong words. Looking at his face, it’s obvious that he’s been crying. Father’s eyes are obviously glassy.

            Looking over at Wells, I could tell that he wants to go over to us but is keeping himself from doing so. He most likely thinks it won’t be appropriate since he’s not a family member.

            When the bodies have been assembled to the pyre, everybody regardless of clan is assembled together, though the mourning stands at the other side. The atmosphere is somber. Wells stands next to me in the front row, close enough that our shoulders touch.

            “ _He shouldn’t be standing here_ ,” Artigas’s mother hisses. “ _He didn’t lose someone to this murderer_.”

            “ _Quiet,_ ” father says. “ _Nothing is wrong with one of the leaders showing support to the mourning_.”

            Thanks, father.

            “ _People of TonDC_ ,” speaks Lexa, “ _in fire we cleanse the pain of the past_.”

            Across from us, Lincoln translates Lexa’s short speech to English as Indra lights the torch. She hands it over to Lexa so she could set light the pyre ablaze. She looks over to Clarke before looking over at Wells and back to Clarke again.

            She probably wants one of them to light the pyre. Or both of them.

            Clarke and Wells go over to where Lexa is standing and Clarke is the one to take the torch, causing mutters to run through the crowd. Mutters containing disbelief that one of the Skaikru could handle the torch.

            When she is about to lower the handle, she freezes and her face drains like she sees something. Wells reaches out and holds the torch with her.

            She looks at him and he nods.

            They both set the corner of the pyre ablaze. “ _Yu Gonplei Ste Odon_ ,” says Clarke. She sets the torch into the pyre before she, Lexa, and Wells step away before the flames could expand.

            I could feel the heat radiate from the pyre as well as the smell of burning wood and cloth. I close my eyes to blink away the tears as Nigel holds my hand and father wraps his arm around my shoulders.

           

* * *

 

            After the cremation rite, Lexa calls the Skaikru leaders and the clan’s military higher ups for a meeting regarding the terms of the truce.

            “I was originally going to hold a banquet to symbolize the alliance but Anya advised that it was not a wise idea since the alliance is two days young and vulnerable to sabotage by either side,” Lexa said. I wonder if that had to do with Anya watching Gustus like a hawk and him being in a sour mood.

            Anya probably caught Gustus doing something that would sabotage the alliance and bought her concerns to Lexa. That would explain it. Gustus is very loyal to Lexa. Which would make sense because the Commander’s personal bodyguards are always from an incumbent Commander’s clan of origin.

            They all file into the building where meetings are held, with Lorie, Ryder, Corrine, Cole, and Beaufort as security. Bellamy managed to convince them to include him in the proceedings. That he is also a leader and when father points out that he wasn’t present when the truce was made, Bellamy replies, “Those kids would be dead if it weren’t for me, so I should have a say in these proceedings.”

            They allowed Abby and Kane to attend. Most likely to satisfy them or as Anya said begrudgingly, “To chaperon the leaders when they never helped them in the beginning.”

            For those not participating in the meeting, lunch was served in the dining hall underground with Titus watching us to prevent fights caused by tension. I would assume that those participating in the meeting were being served lunch also.

            Next to me, Raven was focusing on the radio with headphones on. Her eyes narrowed in frustration as she tried to tune it.

            “Still jammed?” asks the woman sitting next to her – or Callie as Kane called her. Abby refers to her as Cece.

            “I still can’t access the signal,” Raven confirms in frustration. “I might ask Wick if he knows anything when we get back.”

            “You can fix a radio using the parts from a toy car,” I point out, setting down my fork. “I’m sure you will be able to unjam that signal.”

            “For some reason, they have managed to outsmart me,” Raven says, still looking at her radio.

            I scoff. No one can outsmart Raven.

            “How long will it take them?” Octavia asks, looking at Lincoln.

            “Depends on how long they speak over the terms and make negotiations,” Lincoln replies.

            “I hate to see what they come up with,” Octavia scoffs, pouring apple cider into her cup.

            “You should be thankful that Wells is going to participate,” I say, taking a bite of my mashed potatoes. I swallow. “He knows what’s best for both of our clans.”

            “He does,” Lincoln agrees. “I will not be surprised if he’s the glue in this entire alliance.”

            Someone a few seats away scoffs. “ _Like that will ever happen_ ,” says that person.

            “I apologize if this is pessimistic, brother, but how do you know that you can trust him?” Nyko asks with skepticism.

            “I spoke with him the day the murderer was executed,” Lincoln answers. “He doesn’t want this truce to end when our conflict with the Mountain ends. He said that it wouldn’t benefit us if things returned to the way they were before the alliance.”

            Of course, people would have that fear since getting our people out of Mount Weather is the only thing keeping us together at the moment. I trust Wells to be the glue in this whole thing. That he will make sure the truce will last beyond that. Trikru and Skaikru don’t have to be friends. We just have to be civil and help the other out.

            After what seems like an hour, Gustus comes down to tell us that the meeting has commenced. Going on ground level, I see that Abby and Marcus are deep in conversation in one corner while Clarke nods to whatever Wells is saying to her. I find myself following Raven as she approaches Bellamy.

            “Well?” she asks.

            “If we stay in Woods Clan territory, we have to go by their rules,” Bellamy answers. “The Chancellor can exact discipline within Camp Jaha if anything happens inside or the radius around it. Other than that, we have to go by their rules regarding the whole territory.”

            “I doubt that Abby was happy,” Raven says.

            “Understandable but personally despite my reservations about some of them, they don’t execute people for minor offenses,” Bellamy replies.

            I look over to see Abby bend over and scoop ashes from the fire. They would have to be the murderer’s ashes since he was burned on top of the Pyre. As Abby closes the bottle shut, she’s approached by Anya.

            “These are for someone who knew him,” Abby says. “His ashes should go to someone who cared about him.”

            “I understand,” Anya replies. “I don’t trust you to give them to the right person.”

            She takes the bottle from Abby’s hand and approaches Raven with it. “Here are his ashes,” Anya says, offering the bottle to Raven. “It might not make sense to you that I would make this offering considering our tradition but it’s the right thing to do.”

            Raven takes the bottle of ashes with a shaking hand and she looks at Anya with tears running down her face. “T-thank you,” Raven gasps. “This means a lot.”

            Anya didn’t just give Raven the murderers ashes, did she? But knowing Anya, there are plenty of reasons for doing one thing.

 

* * *

 

            “When do we start participating in the annual harvest season?” Wells asks as we sit around the fire for dinner. One of the requirements for Skaikru to stay in our territory is that they have to participate in harvest every year. The ones that are able to work that is

            “After this is all over,” Anya answers, pouring a portion of cabbage stew into his cup; carefully that it doesn’t burn his hands. “That way we don’t repeat the rules to the group that are captured.”

            “They will have three days to recuperate from their ordeal before they can start participating,” father continues.

            Raven runs out of her tent, holding her radio. “Guys!” she shouts, limping towards the second group around a fire.

            Bellamy stands up as I approach them, along with Wells and Clarke. “What is it?” Bellamy asks.

            “Listen to this,” answers Raven, adjusting the volume.

            “ ** _Forty-seven of us are trapped inside Mount Weather_** ,” says Monty’s voice from the radio.

“Talk to him,” Clarke says. “Say Something.”

Monty says on the radio, “ ** _They’ve taken Harper, who may already be dead. We don’t know how much time we have left._** ”

“It’s repeating,” says Raven, shaking her head. “They’re alive.”

“ ** _Please Hurry_** ,” Monty continues. “ ** _This is Monty Green. We need help_.** ” Then it repeats.

“We need to do this now,” Bellamy says. “We got the alliance. Now is the time to use it.”

            Clarke pauses for a moment.

“First, we need an inside man,” Clarke says before looking at Bellamy. “You were right. Without someone on the inside to lower their defenses, turn off the Acid Fog, an army is useless.”

I raise my eyebrow as Wells and I exchange incredulous glances. She refused the idea yesterday and now she’s changed her mind? It could get him killed.

“I thought you hated that plan,” Bellamy points out, “that I would get myself killed.”

“I was being weak,” Clarke replies. “It’s worth the risk.”

 _I was being weak_. That’s something Lexa would say. Did Lexa share the _Love is Weakness_ doctrine that Titus taught her?

Bellamy pauses while Clarke reaches into her jacket to pull out a piece of paper. “My map of Mount Weather.” She hands it to Bellamy. “Find a way to get on that radio and talk to us.”

She’s barking mad. She is really going to risk Bellamy’s life.

“The only way to sneak in and out of Mount Weather is the Reaper tunnels,” Wells points out. “He’s going to get mixed up the people that are being rounded up for harvest or to become Reapers themselves.”

“He’s not wrong,” I confirm, nodding. “We tried it years ago and it failed. The same could happen to him.”

“It might be different this time around,” Clarke says to me. “We need him to shut down the Acid Fog and Costia, your father wouldn’t want to lose hundreds of his warriors in one time again.” She looks at Bellamy, saying, “Good luck,” before walking away.

Wells and I look after her. I don’t…why would…Bellamy could die!

Everything is going to go downhill from here. I just know it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you wonder, Clarke and Lexa had a conversation slightly different from the one in canon, only Lexa lamented how close she came to losing Costia and how their relationship isn’t beyond friendship. And yeah, Anya has another reason why she gave Finn’s ashes to Raven. However, it’s better than Abby presenting Finn’s ashes to Clarke and keeping them for Clarke when Clarke only knew him for over a month.


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

Before the crack of dawn after returning to our trip to TonDC, everything is supposed to spring into action. Father, Wells, Lexa, Clarke, and the three strategists are due for a strategy meeting in the parlor after breakfast. Indra is to take her unit to Camp Jaha share skills while Abby and Thelonious will lead a select group of Skaikru here to share their skills with Anya offering to oversee them.

            Lincoln is due to take Bellamy to Mount Weather after he gets fitted into our clothing. He’s in the village clothing cache at this moment.

            I lay in bed to close my eyes and a couple hours pass before the sound of the cockerel. I drag myself out of bed and decide to sharpen the swords, axes, and scythes in the artillery to help wake up.

            Shortly before breakfast, I leave the artillery to attend a brief meeting. I have an idea because father, Anya, and Lexa discussing about it on the way back home yesterday. Something about Wells and Clarke getting each a horse and an entourage of rangers. I know that Wells wouldn’t want that but Clarke having rangers under her command makes me nervous.

            “ _Due to our alliance with the Sky People, we need to show them that we care for their leaders like you do to me and any other higher power_ ,” Lexa says as she looks at me and nine others. “ _You are to treat your assigned leader as they were me or any higher up. They give you an order and you listen. You provide them the same protection. We are all equals in this_.”

            She’s right. There is no longer _Them_ .vs. _Us_. It’s _We_. Among the Skaikru, I think that Wells is the only one who understand that there is to be no division.

            “ _The five of you that are from Tristan’s unit will be commissioned under Wells and the five of you that are from Anya’s unit will be commissioned under Clarke_ ,” Lexa continues. “ _As I said, treat them like you would me and your unit leaders_.”

            Wells. I’m glad that it’s not Clarke because it would be a nightmare. I would rather be captured, tortured, and beheaded by Ice Nation then be her subordinate. Though, does father know about my relationship with Wells because he wouldn’t agree to have me commissioned under him?

            “ _Do you think that this Raven girl will show up today?_ ” Nigel asks before taking a bite out of an apple. “ _She could need some cheering up_.”

            Now, did Nigel develop a crush on Raven? I could understand, because she’s very attractive but on the other hand –

            “ _I don’t know, Nigel_ ,” I say with a shrug. “ _She might be too good for you_.”

            He rolls his eyes and mutters something undecipherable.

            When breakfast reached its end, Quint and his fellow strategy advisors step into the foyer. Quint’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “ _You smell them reek from here_ ,” he scoffs.

            “ _Quint, now is not the time to dwell on personal beef_ ,” father points out. “ _I understand that your brother’s death left a scar on you but_ –

            “ _To hear that come from you is nothing but treason_ ,” Quint spits out, looking scandalized. “ _You of all people should understand considering that your youngest was murdered by one of them_.” He looks at Lexa. “ _I apologize, Commander, but I will not agree with this_.”

            Lexa is merely stoic. “ _Our guests are here. Anya, Titus, provide reception for the majority while we introduce Clarke and Wells to our strategists_.”

            Anya glares at Titus before they exit the house behind Lexa. When I exit the house behind father, I see a group of Skaikru led by Wells and Clarke standing in the street. Most of them look uncomfortable, looking at the village denizens with unease.

            “Welcome, Skaikru,” Lexa says, looking at our guests. “Today will be dedicated learning about each other, as working together will strengthen our goal. I will dedicate discussing strategy with my general, strategists and two of your leaders. The rest of you will join Anya and Titus for reception before you can begin.”

            Wells and Clarke ascend the steps with Byrne and two other Guardsmen right behind them. Passing Wells, I lean to his ear and whisper, “One of the strategists still has beef with you for the Ring of Fire. Thought I should warn you

            “Who?” he asks as Nigel loops my arm around his.

            “You’ll see,” I answer before Nigel steers me to the crowd heading to the canteen for the reception. Thelonious Jaha looks at his son with concern before Gustus closes the double doors. Abby takes his hand and steers him into the canteen. Charlotte stumbles in, looking around with uncertainty.

            People fill up the benches and when there are no seats left, people stand in places where there is room. Nigel and I sit in the front row, nearby where the Village Council is sitting and where Thelonious, Abby, Anya, and Titus are standing.

            “It’s a mistake,” Thelonious tells Abby.

            “Marcus convinced me to grant you a pardon, Thelonious,” Abby points out. “I don’t want to regret taking his word for it.”

            “Let me tell you how this ends, Abby,” Thelonious says. “Either we lose and Mount Weather kills us all or we win and our new friends do.”

            “I understand how you feel about this, Thelonious, but you need to have faith in what your son is accomplishing here,” Abby replies. “Wells said he will make sure that the alliance will go beyond Mount Weather.”

            “This is their land,” Thelonious replies, “and believing that they’ll let us live here happily ever after isn’t faith. Its stupidity and hopefully you can convince Kane on that. My son should be made aware of that too.”

            Abby opens her mouth when Anya approaches them. “There is enough here for us all. There are a lot of crops and livestock to go around. I will assure you that we’ll share everything with you. And that starts today.”

            When the room fills up, Anya faces the assembled audience. “ _Trikru_. _Skaikru_. We are different in every way up to the clothes on our backs. The only similarity we have is who are enemy is and what are goal is. The only way to accomplish it, to free our people from Mount Weather we have to work together. Fight together. Communicate with each other.”

            She looks towards Abby, who gives her a curt nod.

            “We will share our knowledge of this world to ensure our allies survival,” Anya continues, “and I will trust them to share select knowledge with us.”

            A cup is knocked from someone’s hands and we look to see Murphy and Foster staring each other down. Corrine takes out her sword while a Guardsman turns on a stick that produces glowing electricity.

            “Foster! Murphy!” Anya shouts. “A whole day of work detail for that display. We’re not animals and the both of you are setting a bad example of your respective clans. Someone separate those two before it turns ugly.”

            Two people separate them and someone whistles between their teeth. “This is going to be an interesting ride.”

            It was an understatement since there is still bad blood between both groups. Hopefully nothing erupts to where things go back where they were.

           

* * *

 

            Wooden beams collide as the blood pumps in my hands. I keep an eye on Corrine to monitor her moves so I could deflect them. Her green eyes narrow in concentration as she tries to bury the end of the pole into my stomach.

            I dodge the swipe and knock her off her feet with my beam. Impressed mutters flow through our Trikru audience as Corrine rolls to her side in the mud before getting to her feet.

            From the corner of my eye, I see Quint leaving the house but my eyes leave him because Corrine is aiming at my head. I quickly duck and I jump to avoid the beam hitting my ankles. Our beams collide with each other for three minutes. Both of us deflecting blows.

            “ _Costia!_ ” I thought I hear father shout. “ _Costia!_ ”

            I look to see him standing by the door of our house and he motions me to come forward. As I walk towards him, Corrine shouts, “Who else wants to show our Sky People guests what we got?”

            “ _Do you have any idea where Quint has gone to?_ ” father asks me.

            “ _I have seen him exit the house moments ago_ ,” I say before thinking further about it. “ _He looked like he was going to strangle someone_.”

            “ _His incapability to set aside his personal beef has cut the meeting short and has worried the Commander_ ,” father replies as I see Wells peeking from the door. “ _I have requested that the leaders not leave the village until he’s taken care of_.”

            Judging by father’s tone and face, I know what that means. The only people with the power to put a kill order on people are the Commander, the general, and the lieutenant. Quint was always a ticking time bomb.

            And if father is telling me that, that means he wants me to carry it out.

            I nod. “ _Yes, father. I’ll take care of him_.”                  

            He nods as I walk away towards Ryder and Tomas, both of whom are sitting down playing chess while a group of Trikru watches. There are some Skaikru among that group too. Their awed expressions offend me. Aside from cultural differences, we are capable of having the same past times.

            “ _Care to know where Quint went?_ ” I ask them.

            “ _He said something about going to the artillery when he walked past_ ,” Tomas answers.

            The artillery. That gives away his motives.

            “ _Okay_ ,” I answer. “ _Thanks for your assistance_.”

            As I walk down the path to the artillery, I see that Anya is sitting down and talking to Charlotte, who’s wistfully watching a group of village children play fight. Behind me I see that Beaufort and Ramsay join my flank. “ _So, Quint has gotten himself into trouble_.”

            “ _That’s what father has said_ ,” I answer as I open the door.

            “I don’t care who you are,” I hear Raven spit out. “Take your hand off me or I’ll attack you with your own knife.”

            Opening the door, I see that Quint has turned away from Raven, holding her jacket in a vice grip. Her companion – specifically the one who made the Bane joke – standing next to her trying to pry Quint’s arm off her.

            “ _I found these two in here_ ,” Quint says to me. “ _I doubt that your father would permit Sky People trespassing here_.”

            “ _Father wouldn’t care_ ,” I answer. “ _He would rather have them be curious about our artillery then avoiding it on this day. Also, I came because Ramsay saw something in the south end outside the village wall that needs your attention_.”

            “ _Have those leeches installed new surveillance equipment?_ ” Quint asks.

            “ _Most likely_ ,” Ramsay answers.

            Quint pauses for a moment. “ _I’ll go with you and check it out_.” He turns to Raven and her companion. “You two will not be lucky the next time.”

            There will not be a next time.

            We leave the artillery and walk past the groups of people to get to the gate. Wells might not understand a word that was said but he probably got the gist of the conversation and whatever Quint did that made father and Lexa uncomfortable, Wells would guess that Quint’s days were numbered.

 

* * *

 

            Beaufort mutters to himself as we arrive back to the village while he wipes his sword clean. Since I didn’t have my sword on me, I had to improvise to get the job done. Ramsay was carrying Quint’s sword as that’s the only thing he took from his body. We left his body outside for the animals.

            The aroma of bread baking, roasting meat, boiling potatoes and vegetables fill the air. Indicating that it was close to lunchtime. I see that Nigel is facing off Amherst in front of Skaikru and the villagers. He’s going to be relieved when the lunch bell rings.

            Going into the house, I hear sharp voices from the living area and when I get closer, I hear Abby argue, “You must be out of your mind to want to take Charlotte under your wing. She’s only twelve.”

            “We start them off young because they won’t be as resistant,” Anya replies. “They will learn with more efficiency.”

            “You are turning children into monsters,” Abby argues as I near the door. “We are no longer in the Dark Ages and you should know that.”

            “There is a difference between a monster and a warrior,” father pitches in. “If you want a correct example of a monster, look at the parasites residing in Mount Weather.”

            I knock on the doorjamb and three pairs of eyes turn to me.

            “Quint has been taken care of,” I answer.

            “Good,” he answers. “They should know that it’s not dangerous to venture out of the premises.”

            I nod and as I peer into the study, where Clarke is analyzing a map of Mount Weather. “You had her kill someone?” Abby demands. The rage is visible in her tone.

            “If I didn’t give the kill order, he would have killed your daughter and her friend,” father replies. “You were not in here during the strategy meeting.”

            “You could have tried another way,” Abby pushes. “One that doesn’t require a child to have blood on their hands.”

            “You sent your daughter and ninety-nine others down to a death planet which you didn’t know could sustain human life and basically left her to fend for herself,” father argues. “So you have no place to criticize how I raised my children. At least I kept Costia on my watch back when she was my Second.”

            I rush to the library door and close it behind me as I don’t want to hear what tripe Abby is going to come up with.

            I descend the frayed carpet-covered stairs and when I reach the foot of the stairs, I see that Wells is sitting in a leather arm chair reading _Level 7_ by Mordecai Roshwald. He looks up when he sees me and smiles. “I was looking at the book collection you have here. I remember seeing some of the same titles on the Ark.”

            “Predictably, there would be.” I sit across from him. “This used to be family entertainment room before the Apocalypse and Johanna Brighton converted it into a library five years into the clan’s founding.”

            He closes the book and asks, “So, Quint bit the dust, did he?”

            “I understand why you would not approve our way of doing things but he was going to threaten the alliance for not setting aside his personal beef,” I sigh. Waiting for the inevitable.

            “I thought he was going to get himself killed for his behavior during the strategy meeting,” Wells replies. “The Commander told him twice to stand down and your father told him three times that it was an inappropriate time to dwell on personal beef. I knew he was going to get killed for that.”

            “Does it bother you?” I ask.

            “What?” he asks.

            “That I carried out the kill order,” I clarify. “It probably bothers you.”

            “Well, a society can exist without aggression and violence but my society floated people for minor infractions before we got down here,” Wells answers. “Civilizations have been violet since the dawn of time through various ways. Mrs. Griffin says that you don’t understand peace but looking at it, we’re not much different from you guys.”

            I couldn’t help but agree. People could argue that floating is a non-violent way of execution but violence doesn’t require blood.

            “What is peace anyway?” I ask. “Peace has always been a foreign concept. Well, the kind your people want.”

            “Exactly,” he says. “We don’t have to be friends. We have to just be civil with each other. I am not looking for a happily ever after here. If only my father understands that.”

            Something in his expression indicates that something is bothering him. Like a conversation.

            “What happened with your father?” I ask, folding my hands on my lap.

            He sighs. “When you were leaving with Quint, he came over here to talk to me. That I’m going to be let down after the conflict with Mount Weather is over. That there is no way that the Trikru will let us live here peacefully. I told him that the Commander agreed to make sure things don’t return to war after this and that I didn’t expect friendship but he didn’t seem to agree. He thinks there is another place that my people should go.”

            “What place is that?” I ask.

            “When he came down, he landed in a desert called the Dead Zone,” Wells answers. “He met this family who told him that they were going to a City of Light and before the truce that’s where he wanted to take the population of our home to. The name itself indicates that it’s not real.”

            He’s correct. The City of Light is nothing but an Old Wives’ Tale that takes advantage of the desperate and the unfortunate, and lures them to the Dead Zone with a false promise of no hate, no pain, and no envy. Everything that makes us human.

            “The City of Light is a myth, Wells,” I confirm. “Concocted one hundred years ago by someone obviously preying on the vulnerable.”

            “But, there has to be somewhere beyond the Dead Zone that generates that sort of that myth,” Wells points out. “Every myth starts with something.”

            He’s not wrong there. Every myth begins with a semblance of truth. I’m certain that father would not reservations about me showing Wells the map in his study.

 

* * *

 

            All of us – the Village Council, Lexa, Titus, Abby, Wells, Thelonious, Clarke, Anya, father, Nigel, and I – sit around the dining room table for lunch.

            “Our guests have the honor of serving themselves first,” Lexa answers. “Remember to not get more than your share. Everyone likes a bit of everything.”

            I watch Thelonious’s face as Wells serves himself a helping of mash potatoes before taking a serving of peas. He looks uneasy as if there was a supply shortage. When the last Sky Person – Abby – serves fills her dish adequately and we begin passing around dishes to fill our plates, Wells’ father says, “What the Commander just said worries me.”

            Lexa looks at him as she pours strawberry lemonade into her glass. “I understand your concern, Thelonious but we’re not facing dire supply shortages.”

            “It’s not a issue of whether we have enough,” Anya clarifies. “There is enough to go around but the body can take only a certain amount of calories and food depending on age and build. Also, we want to avoid gluttony and considering that our way of life is what you think as unorthodox, we can’t consume more then what our bodies hold.”

            “How do you know all this stuff about intake by calories and body statures?” Abby asks.

            “Fighting a enemy clan and being literate are not mutually exclusive,” Anya answers with pursed lips.

            “Even if you think have enough, our presence might have some complications on obtaining food,” Thelonious says. “I am aware that it’s the harvest season for your clan.”

            “When the first group arrived, the general population of Trigeda was three thousand and three hundred people,” Octavian points out. “The population dropped due to certain events which you would know and since there are a few hundred among you so far, by territory you merely brought up the population.”

            “Harvest is going smoothly right now despite its complications,” Venia says, turning her ring. “This village is nearing its goal for what is needed to survive for winter.”

            “Speaking of population, we still have people unaccounted for,” Thelonious says. “We still have to find the other Ark stations.”

            “I saw your original home come down from the sky with clarity that night,” father says. “If there is a chance that one of the stations landed in Ice Nation territory, those people could already be dead.”

            “Ice Nation?” Abby asks.

            “A clan this Coalition fought with for nearly two centuries,” Titus answers. “You should be thankful that the first group didn’t land there. They kill any new arrival indiscriminately.”

            “From what I hear, one of your own speared a boy who is now among the captive in Mount Weather,” Abby presses.

            “It was an isolated incident that was quickly rectified,” Lexa points out. “Nothing that had anything to do with the misunderstandings that culminated into war.”

            “I hate to burst anyone’s bubble but these mashed potatoes taste better then what we had on the Ark,” Wells says, trying to change the subject to avoid a argument. “They taste natural.”

            I smile. “I suppose it’s better than that genetically modified rubbish that you ate up in space?”

            “Space was a drag,” Wells replies.

            I cover my mouth to contain my laughter. I wouldn’t imagine living up in an orbiting collection of tin cans. I would get stir crazy.

            When lunch concluded, I lead him to father’s office to show him the map.

            “Someone took great care to make modifications to the map,” Wells notes.

            “When the United States fell, the map had to change,” I point out.

            “The people at Mount Weather probably think otherwise,” Wells sighs. “It was a government facility.”

            “Well they need to stop living in the past,” I say. I point my finger to the area marked Trigeda. “We are here. Woods Clan territory.” I move my finger over. “Next to us is _Azgeda_ and the Dead Zone.”

            “I see that part of it was once New York state,” he notes.

            “Over by the Dead Zone is what you would call the Cape Cod area though we call it the Source Location,” I continue, pointing my finger to the little piece of land on the map.

            “Source Location?” he asks, raising his eyebrow. “Source of what?”

            “Why things are the way they are,” I answer. “It shouldn’t be a stretch to conceive the idea that a A.I. would hack into high security computers to bring in a Nuclear Apocalypse.”

            Wells pauses and mutters some words under his breath. “When the news broke that China launched twenty-seven ICBMs, they didn’t know what the cause of it was. It was a hack. That explains why it happened so suddenly and why the reason was unknown.”

            “Exactly,” I answer. “There is something beyond the Dead Zone but it’s not what people think it is.”

            _Boom!_

            The explosion is loud but not loud enough to indicate that it originated in the village.

            “ _Who set off a explosive!?_ ” I hear father demand from the parlor. “ _Amherst! Ramsay! Find out the source of that infernal occurrence_!”

            Wells glances at me and asks, “Do unexpected occurrences always set your father off?”

            I sigh. He’s not wrong there, technically. “Only if it breaks rules or before battle, especially if it hurts people.”

 

* * *

 

            When we go outside, we see that Amherst and Ramsay were beaten to their assignment, as Cole and Yvette brought in Raven and her blonde haired companion through the gates; with Pippin carrying a charred remnant of a small pipe bomb.

            “These two were caught testing a bomb on a tree,” Cole says as soon as he sees my father, Lexa, and Anya.

            “It’s not like we were hurting anyone,” says Raven’s companion.

            “Shut up, Wick,” Raven snaps as father takes the bomb from Pippin’s hand.

He looks at it and turns to Raven and Wick. “You didn’t detonate it in the village but it was still a careless act.”

“I just saw that you had materials for bombs and decided to test it out,” Raven says. “I decided to test it outside the village since I didn’t want people to get hurt.”

Lexa looks to father and Anya. “What do you want to do about this?”

Father and Anya exchange a glance before father says to the two of them, “Don’t do it again.”

“Unhand them,” Anya says. “We’re not going to put them in the pillory for just minutes of stupidity.”

Raven and Wick massage their arms after they let go. As they walk away, Abby asks, “Pillory?”

“Only petty crimes are punishable by a week in the pillory,” Anya answers. “Only high crimes warrant execution.”

 

* * *

 

“You have a book dedicated to learning Trigedasleng?” Wells asks as I hand him the copy of the book after dinner.

“To help the young ones learn,” I answer, sitting across from him in the parlor. “Some people teach it orally but it’s better if you learn it by book to help with pronunciation.”

“You learn certain things better by book,” Wells answers. “Like learning a new language.”

Someone knocks on the doorjamb and I see that it’s his father. “Wells?” he asks.

I pick up my empty glass. “I’ll give you two a minute,” I say before walking out of the parlor. Soft conversation is coming from the dining room and when I pass father’s office, the door opens and I see him holding three thick volumes.

“I was hoping to come across you sometime tonight,” father says. “Come on in.”

I swallow hard as I step into his office. Behind his strategy table, I see a diagram with the words _Mount Weather Emergency Operations Center_ written above it. My pulse pumps in my hands as I take a seat. I knew father was going to address my relationship with Wells but I hadn’t really prepared myself for the conversation.

He closes the door and says, “Costia, I have noticed something in the past few days.”

“Did you?” I ask, knowing that I shouldn’t play coy since he would find out already.

“I know you well enough to understand that half the time you form a romantic bond with someone,” he answers, sitting down behind his desk. “When you look at Wells, you have that light in your eyes that I haven’t seen since Lexa.”

I swallow as my heart races. “I didn’t mean to get attached, father,” I say, the pulse vibrating in my ears. “I never meant to.”

“There is that risk of attachment with missions like this,” he replies. “The inside person growing attached to the people they are spying on. Due to the rules of Psychology, I didn’t make the reminder to not get attached, as you might regardless.”

Father wasn’t surprised by the extent of my relationship with Wells then.

“If you know, what should I do then?” I ask.

“Costia, I trust your judgment enough to decide what’s best for yourself,” he answers. “You’re crowning twenty, old enough to make your own personal decisions. When it comes to the clan, you are to still answer to me and the Commander but your personal life you answer to yourself.”

            That was…unexpected. Usually what happens in the clan pertains to your personal life but father held no objections to my relationship with Lexa when everyone knows that the Commander can’t have romantic relationships.

            “Okay, father,” I say.

            “With this alliance, Trikru-Skaikru relationships should be expected,” he replies. “If they need a example, they need to look at your relationship with Wells. Lincoln’s relationship with Octavia should have fell into that caliber had Octavia not decided to become one of us when she doesn’t understand anything about us.”

 

 


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

The next morning, Wells and Clarke depart from the village. On horseback and with their entourages in tow. Myself included. Looking over at Wells’ face, his last conversation with his father looks like it’s eating him. It would eat me too if my father wanted to look for something that was fabled but he probably feels guilt from not going with him.

            Yet, my conversation with my own father replays in my head.

            Fifteen minutes on horseback and I hear Abby call for the horses to stop. What for?

            “Whoa, Athena. Whoa, girl,” I say to my horse. She slows down before coming to a complete stop.

            Wells furrows his brow in confusion before getting off the horse lent to him. Clarke follows.

            “Why are we stopping?” Clarke asks as I see her mother bend down to scoop puddle water into a container. I keep myself from gagging when she offers the container for either Clarke or Wells.

            “The two of you need a drink of water too,” Abby says.

            “You want us get dysentery?” Wells asks, looking at the container. “You are a doctor, Mrs. Griffin. You should know that unpurified puddle water can contain enormous amounts of bacteria. Besides, it’s like thirty minutes to get back to our home on horseback. We’ll get water there.”

            Abby nods without saying anything.

            Clarke turns to her entourage. “Our scouts patrol these woods. Be careful where you shoot.”

            “Okay, let’s go back to base,” Wells commands. “We need to get back in time to hear from our inside man.”

            “Yes, sir,” Afton replies as most of us return on our horses. Just as Wells grabs the reins of his horse, a gunshot goes off and a member of Clarke’s entourage falls from his horse.

            It’s like my heart wants to explode. As of now, only one group is capable of having firearms. Mountain Men.

            Wells and I jump from our horses to help him as Clarke rides her horse to the source of the gunshot.

            “Go with her!” Abby commands before approaching us. “Let me work on him.”

            “I can contain the bleeding myself,” I say. “If only I had time to make a fire.”

            “Why?” Abby demands as I take a thick cloth to try and contain the bleeding. I press it to his abdomen and apply pressure. The blood soaks through the cloth and I’m sure my hands are getting sticky from the blood.

            Octavia runs to us, breathing frantically. She needs to get rid of the braids. They do not suit her.

            “You need to get back to base,” Octavia pants, looking at Wells. “This was an assassination attempt.”

            “On who?” Wells asks.

            “On Clarke, Lexa, and you,” Octavia pants. “Indra sent someone to warn Lexa.”

            Wells shakes his head as I process the information. They targeted Wells, Lexa, and Clarke for assassination. With them dead, everything would fall apart. That’s why they would want to kill them. So that this movement against them would falter.

            If Wells dies leaving Lexa and Clarke, the alliance will hold but not for long.

           

* * *

 

            As Abby rushes one of the assailants and Tommen into Camp Jaha’s medical ward, with Clarke following her, father and Anya are led into the complex by Indra.

            “Indra sent a rider to Brighton to tell the Commander,” father says to Wells. “An assassin? Is it true?”

            “The bullet struck Tommen in the stomach,” Wells answers. “Not sure if he will live.”

            “And about the assassin?” Anya demands.

            “Clarke insisted to Octavia that they spare one of them for he might give us information,” Wells answers.

            “Like hell he will,” father spits out before going into their medical ward with Anya and Indra following him. I follow after them while Wells goes to the other direction. Probably to see if Bellamy has contacted us back yet. The Mountain Man and Tommen are lying on different beds in the room and I see Abby working over Tommen. She looks over to us and says, “Shoot.” Then she says louder: “I need the blood now!”

            Father steps closer and Abby lifts Tommen’s head, talking to him. He exhales and his head slumps before the rest of the body. Gone. Another life taken by the Mountain Men.

            My body stiffens as white hot rage fuels my body. They are going through all this effort to spare someone who tried to assassinate the leaders of the truce while they didn’t try hard enough to save the life of my clan brother?

            Indra bows her head and approaches Tommen’s corpse before taking out a knife. “ _Yu Gonplei Ste Odon_.”

            Indra cuts the braid from his beard while both Anya and father send Abby a glare. One that could pierce into a person’s skull if it wanted to.

            “This is your way?” Anya demands. “A killer lives while a warrior dies?”

            “I’m sorry,” Clarke replies, “but he can help us beat Mount Weather.”

            “Then let us make him talk,” Father presses before looking at me. “ _Costia, send for Reed!_ ”

            Clarke shakes her head. “No. We’re not torturing him.”

            What? He’s not going to talk if he’s not under duress.

            “Clarke’s right,” Abby attests. “He might just talk because we saved his life.”

            “You people are so weak,” Indra spits out before leaving the room. Father and Anya look at her retreating figure before turning to Abby.

            “The idea that he might talk just because you saved his life is poppycock,” father argues.

            “It’s not poppycock, Tristan,” Clarke persists. “It’s common sense.”

            “No, it’s stupidity,” Anya spits out. “He’s going to know that you want something out of him since you spared him and when he wakes up, he will repeat basic information that he was trained to give to avoid giving away anything important.”

            “Anya is right,” father says. “Nothing useful will come out of him. So, let me retrieve someone who knows how to force it out.”

            “No,” Abby argues. “We’re not barbarians.”

            “Unless I’m mistaken, all nations, including the United States, tortured information out of people during war before the Nuclear Apocalypse,” Anya points out. “You can shove your delusions up your arse.”

            Anya walks out of the room with father close behind her. The door closes behind them, and Clarke and Abby turn to me. “What do you say, Costia?” Abby asks. “Surely you don’t agree with your father.”

            I scoff. “This Mountain Parasite is not going to give you information on the basis that you saved him. He’s not going to trust you. Clarke, he was there was the bullet was fired, making him a willing participant. He could have killed Wells while the other one could have killed you. If I were you, I would strip him of his protective suit and leave him to roast outside.”

            I turn away and walk out. Not caring what their responses will be. When I’m outside the room, I pound on the wall with my fists until my eyes water and my knuckles throb.

 

* * *

 

            I walk around the complex, looking for Wells until I see him, Octavia, and Clarke in a workshop with Raven. Stepping inside, I hear that same radio loop played through the radio.

            “Anything from Bellamy?” I ask.

            “No, just this message,” Raven answers, shaking her head.

            “I hate to be a Debbie downer but he is probably being drained for his blood right now,” I say, crossing over to where Wells is standing.

            “Don’t say that,” Octavia spits out.

            “Octavia, I hope to hear from him and that he’s safe but he was taken to the Reaper tunnels,” Wells says. “It’s not going to end well.”

            “Why, I ought to –,” Octavia seethes, taking a step towards Wells.

            “That’s enough,” Clarke says to her as I notice the article of items stacked on Raven’s table. Among them I see pictures of Wells, Lexa, and Clarke; red circles drawn around their profiles.

            “So, you have been rifling through his bag,” I state.

            “We wanted to see what could help us stop them,” Wells replies before picking up a weird looking object. “Listen to this.”

            He presses a button and a blue light comes on along with a high pitch tone. It irritates the ears but the intention is probably to cause pain.

            “That was used to contain the Reapers,” Clarke says. “It was like they were in pain when they heard the noise.”

            “They probably trained them to make them associate pain with the noise,” Wells points out as I look through the other belongings of that Mountain Parasite. Three balls of knock-out gas. A box of bullets. A compass and oh, what’s this? I remove the rope from the envelope and open it. He actually has pictures of what appears to be his family. One picture has two smiling kids (a boy and girl) while the second picture has the same kids but pictured with a woman (probably his wife) as they pose next to what looks like a Christmas tree. The back is inscribed with _Rachel, Aaron, and Audrey. Mount Weather. Christmas of 2251_

The idea of monsters having children is incomprehensible.

            “Well, if one thing is proven, prisoners don’t like it when their captives are rifling through their personal belongings,” I say as I stuff everything but the toner in the bag. “I could make him talk by looking through his personal belongings.”

            “Making him uncomfortable won’t make him talk,” Clarke argues.

            “At least we’re not torturing him like we wanted to,” I scoff. “Believing that he will simply give you information because you saved him is stupidity.”

            “We’re just trying not to stoop to their level,” Clarke insists. “We’re trying to be the bigger people.”

            “The only thing that it will accomplish is that they will think that you are a soft opponent,” I point out. “That you are easy to destroy due to the fact that you refuse to use Draconian methods on him.”

            “I don’t agree with the concept of torturing your victim for information but that idea isn’t going to make him talk, Clarke,” Wells says.

            “You are taking her side?” Clarke seethes.

            “Look at it this way,” Wells answers. “We are at war with them. We could have easily killed him after killing his partner. Since we went all of that trouble to spare him, he knows that we will want something out of him. Therefore he will not trust us.”

            Clarke looks like she is thinking over when we hear a tone over us. “ _Clarke Griffin and Wells Jaha report to the airlock chamber_ ,” someone says from a public announcement system.

            “He’s awake,” Clarke says.

            “That doesn’t mean that he will give anything important,” I point out as I pick up his pack.

 

* * *

 

            “Now, answer the question,” Kane tells our prisoner after inquiring about the state of situation in which the forty-seven Delinquents are currently in.

            Our prisoner looks at us and answers, “Carl Emerson. Security detail –

            “You already answered that question,” Kane points out. “You don’t seem to be grasping the situation here.”

            I roll my eyes and say, “Pardon me, Vice Chancellor. How I see it, he knows the situation pretty well given that he was overseeing and possibly participating in a failed assassination attempt. He wouldn’t even care in the slightest.”

            “He could still talk,” Kane says to me.

            “I doubt it,” I say, folding my arms.

            Kane turns to Emerson and asks the same question to which Emerson repeats the same information.

            “What you’re doing isn’t working.” I hold up his bag. “If I look through his stuff, it might make him talk. Discomfort should do the trick.”

            “No,” Abby snaps. “We need him to cooperate.”

            “He was a willing participant of a failed assassination plot against your daughter,” I point out. “You should be glad that Reed isn’t here with his tools.”

            I walk closer to the airlock chamber and hold up his bag. “Recognize this, leech?”

            Emerson sits right up and raises his hand up. “Yes. Don’t open it. It contains some of my personal items. You will contaminate them, Outsider.”

            “Too bad,” I scoff. “I already touched pictures of your brats with my radiation soaked hands.”

            I smirk at the panic on his face as I reach my hand into his pack to retrieve his envelope. After removing the rope, I open the frayed envelope and take out the first picture which contains his children.

            “Beautiful children,” I say, trying to come off as menacingly as possible. “Beautiful but sheltered and weak to radiation. If you don’t give us any information about the forty-seven trapped in your fortress, it would be a shame if I tore this picture in half.”

            I hold the picture with my fingers from both top edges and begin to slowly tear the picture from the top.

            “No, stop!” he shouts, standing from his cot with his palm out.

            The tear hasn’t extended beyond the border when Abby snatches the pictures away from me. “Okay, that’s enough,” she snaps. “If he’s under duress he will not cooperate with us to give information.”

            “The only way he will give information is if he’s under some sort of pressure,” I point out. “It’s the only way to –”

            My face forcefully turns to the side when the back of her hand strikes my face. A slight throbbing pain follows but that doesn’t stop me from sending her a scowl. If Guardsmen weren’t in the room and if it weren’t for this truce, I would have slapped her back harder.

            However, that would suggest discord among the alliance and I don’t trust the imprisoned parasite with that information. He might tell his leader who would use it against us.

            I just glare at her before walking away.

 

* * *

 

            For the next hour or so, I spend my time in Raven’s workshop, listening to the looping playback of Monty’s SOS message as I tinker with a mechanic object to keep me out of trouble. Wells and Clarke left as they were called to the airlock chamber.

            “Have you tinkered with electronics before?” Raven asks me as she makes a replica of the tone generator.

            “Only to take it apart for its metal properties so I could barter them for goods,” I answer as I fiddle with the screw on a beaten down radio.

            “If you want, you can take that radio apart to extract the metal,” Raven suggests. “Wick had no luck repairing it.”

            Wells and Clarke enter the room. Clarke looks dejected. Wells’s eyebrows are creased in concern but there is a trace of determination on his face.

            “Still no word from Bellamy?” Clarke asks.

            I shake my head. “No, just Monty repeating the same message. Why did they send for you?”

            “Turns out that they are already bleeding our friends,” Wells answers. “It said so in his blood test.”

            “It’s over,” Clarke says.

            “No, it’s not,” Wells replies, turning to her. “Bellamy wouldn’t want us to give up. He would want us to save our friends.”

            “Exactly,” I attest. “If we give up, we will only be giving those parasites what they want. If you give up, they will not only finish killing off your friends but they will come to this camp to take everyone and drain their blood.”

            “Like she said,” Raven concurs. “When Finn died, I never gave up. I know you’re not a coward Clarke and if you do give up, it’s a cowardly decision.”

            “Camp Jaha, this is Mount Weather. Can anyone read me?” I hear Bellamy’s voice from the radio.

            What in the ever living blazes?

            “Holy crap,” Raven says.

            “Camp Jaha, this is Mount Weather. Can anyone read me?”

            Clarke grabs the radio and asks, “Bellamy?”

            “Clarke?” he asks. “Is Wells there too?”

            “Yes, the both of us are here. Are you alright?” she asks.

            “I think so, for now,” Bellamy replies. “We have to talk fast. Something has changed. Jasper, Monty, everyone, they just locked them in the dorm.”

            So, it’s happening. A coup de grace. Just like the last time when the Mountain Men first turned this clan into disposable blood bags.

            Clarke hands the radio to Wells. He asks, “Everyone is alive?”

            “I think so, for now,” Bellamy confirms. “Maya says that they're already using their blood, and things are going to get ugly in here real fast.”

            “Maya is with you?” Clarke asks after Wells hands her the radio.

            “She helped me escape,” Bellamy replies. “If not for her, I’d be dead.”

            A Mountain Person helped him after all. From the sound of it, he was most likely being drained of his blood along with the rest of my clan and a few members of Ice Nation. Still, I shouldn’t trust this girl if I were him.

            “And there are kids here,” Bellamy continues. “We need a plan that doesn't kill everyone. Please tell me we have one.”

            Bellamy wants to spare the Mountain kids. I understand his concern but the children will be thrust in the middle and the middle always gets the brunt of war.

            “We hear you,” Wells says after Clarke hands him the radio. “However, there is that Acid Fog we have to worry about first. Raven is going to help you on that one.”

            “Got it,” says Bellamy. “What else?”

            Clarke retrieves the radio from Wells. “You have to figure out a way to free the Grounder prisoners. There’s a whole army inside that mountain, and they don’t realize it.”

            “Trojan horse,” Bellamy replies. “Good plan.”

            After the correspondence with Bellamy, I follow Wells and Clarke from the room though Wells lingers while she goes ahead to find someone to send for father, Anya, and Indra.

            “Skeptical about Bellamy’s desire to spare the Mount Weather children?” I ask him.

            He sighs. “It ends two ways,” he answers. “If Mount Weather wins, Trikru but mostly Skaikru will die. If the both of us win, it’s going to result in the death of everyone inside Mount Weather. I don’t want it to be that way, but with the situation where it stands, that’s how it is.”

            Killing everyone in Mount Weather is something that Wells wouldn’t obviously want but he knows it’s unpreventable. However, if there was a button that could kill everyone in Mount Weather, I would push it in a heartbeat.

  


  


           

           

           


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

            A group of us walk behind Wells and Clarke. With Anya standing to Clarke’s left and father standing next to Wells’s right. With me right behind father.

            “I am hoping that the two of you thought this through,” father says. “A live Mountain Man is dangerous then a dead one.”

            “I understand your concern, Tristan,” Wells answers. “It was the only thing we could think of at the moment. There is no use keeping him if he’s not going to talk.”

            “It might only be temporary,” Anya assures father. “When their leader falls, he will fall too.”

            Everyone is going to die in the Mountain if we win. Even if their leader is replaced, they can’t last long without other people’s blood.

            We round the corner and standing in front of the airlock door is a Guardsman, who shifts in front of the door and says, “Uh-uh.”

            “Don’t,” Clarke warns him. She looks at the Mountain Man and says, “Get dressed. You’re coming with us.”

            It doesn’t take him long to get into that hazmat suit and Beaufort and I escort him behind Wells and Clarke in the corridor.

            “You’re being spared but enjoy it while you can,” I warn him. “You’ll fall when your leader falls.”

            “I’m not counting on it,” he says, like it’s impossible.

            “ _Stop talking_ ,” snaps Beaufort.

            From my peripheral vision, father looks at Emerson like he’s nothing but something extremely disgusting he found under his boot. Anya looks at Emerson as if she smells horse manure.

            When we march him outside, all of the _Skaikru_ give us their attention but it doesn’t take long for Abby to see us, for she and the Vice Chancellor block our way to the gate.

            “What are you two doing?” Kane demands of Wells and Clarke.

            “Will the both of you stop,” Abby demands.

            “No,” Clarke answers. “Wells and I are letting the prisoner go.”

            Abby looks as if she’s just swallowed a dozen lemons. “Absolutely not,” she says.

            “He hasn’t told us anything yet,” Kane adds.

            “He doesn’t have to,” Clarke answers. “He’s going to tell _them_ something.”

            “Also, what’s the point of keeping him here if he’s not going to tell us anything?” Wells points out.

            Abby turns her head to look over her shoulder. “Get the prisoner back to the airlock now,” she orders the Guardsmen.

            “Yes, ma’am,” says one of them. As they draw in, I immediately grab Emerson and put my blade against his throat while fellow Trikru pull out their weapons.

            “You maybe the Chancellor, but Wells and I are in charge,” Clarke says to her.

            Abby unwavers and commands, “Tristan, tell your people to stand down before this gets out of hand.”

            “No,” father answers.

            A few seconds of uneasy silence and my blade is pushing against the parasite’s throat.

            “People could get hurt,” Abby says.

            “Nobody will get hurt if you tell the Guardsmen to stand down, Chancellor,” Wells points out. “Order them to stand down, please.”

            “You need to trust that I know what’s right for us,” Clarke continues.

            Abby looks like she has a hard time considering it.

            “The Grounders trust Clarke and Wells,” Kane consults. “Maybe we should too.”

            Abby looks at us before looking at the Guardsmen and orders, “Stand down.”

            Everyone lowers their weapons and I remove my sword from his throat before pushing him forward. “Open the gate, now,” Clarke orders and the Guardsmen open the gate. Emerson is led out but we surround him so he doesn’t escape until he’s given the message to deliver. It would be more satisfying if we sent his bloodied corpse as the message.

            “Can you hear me alright?” Clarke asks him. “Because I need to make sure you get this.”

            “Loud and clear,” he answers.

            “We have a message for your leader,” Clarke begins. “We’re coming for him. You’re watching us, but you haven’t seen a thing. The Grounder army is bigger than you think. And even if you do find it, your Acid Fog can’t hurt them, and now thanks to you” – Clarke sounds the tone for a few seconds – “neither can Reapers.

            “All we want is our people back,” Wells answers. “All you have to do is let them go and the army won’t attack. With their numbers your people won’t last a chance.”

            I know Wells is trying to balance out Clarke’s abrasiveness. That he’s not sharing the truth of the outcome if the Mountain falls.

            “I got it,” says Emerson.

            Clarke looks at something and picks up what looks like a meter. “It’s a eight-hour walk back to Mount Weather?”

            Emerson doesn’t answer to which Clarke squeezes the nozzle, from which air comes out. The dial moves from eight to six.

            “You’re going to do it in six,” Clarke says, lowering the meter. Wells looks at her with wide eyes, like he thought she lost her mind.

            “Six hours?” asks Emerson. “That’s not enough. How am I supposed to deliver your message?”

            “That’s your problem,” Clarke answers. “Now go.”

            Emerson backs away before leaving the gate. When we enter back into the complex once he’s gone, the Guardsmen shut the gate.

 

* * *

 

            It’s been last night since Emerson was sent to send a message to Mount Weather and Bellamy hasn’t reported since then even so he was to do so every three hours. Which didn’t help Clarke’s stress any considering that today was the day that Lexa was meeting with the Azgeda dignitaries and Trikru ambassador to hear from the Skaikru leaders when the go ahead would be to descend on Mount Weather.

            “I will meet with Lexa while you stay here,” Wells assured her early this morning. “We don’t know what could be going on in Mount Weather, so it’s best if we work from both ends.”

            Clarke threw her hands around Wells and thanked him profusely. I think I heard her say that Lexa prefers him when it comes to politics.

            Wells isn’t manipulative like Clarke.

            It takes a whole day to reach TonDC by walking but it’s shorter by horse or wagon.

            “If Ice Nation is not participating in the army, why are their dignitaries coming to this meeting?” Wells asks when we’re halfway there.

            “Mount Weather is in Trikru territory but the Mountain Men like to cross into Azgeda from time to time,” Indra answers. “Their ambassador and prince will be there only to pass a message to their queen so that they could determine when their people will come back.”

            “They have a monarchy?” Wells asks.

            “Their founder chose that type of government because that meant he would have absolute power over his clan,” Anya answers. “Trikru is not a democracy but we decided on Village Councils so that power doesn’t go to one person or a select few.”

            “Trikru doesn’t recognize an official clan leader under the Commander but if something effects the clan as a whole, that is where Anya comes in,” father continues. “She speaks for the clan during meetings and peace talks. She has a little more power than an average ambassador since the Commander gave her the power to settle a truce.”

            “Titus wasn’t entirely too happy since Anya trained her in combat for the Conclave,” I answer. “Also, you probably know by now that Azkru wear blue tinted clothing.”

            “I know that,” he says with a shiver. He most likely hasn’t forgotten that night where he was forced to kill a Azgeda poacher to save me.

            It’s late morning when we arrive at TonDC, with Lexa, Gustus, and Titus waiting for us.

            “No Clarke?” Lexa asks as we dismount from our horses.

            “She wants to be there when Bellamy reports back and since we don’t know what is going on when he isn’t reporting, I offered to come to delegate until she gets here,” Wells answers.

            Lexa looks disappointed but she nods. “Well, come in. Ice Nation has yet to arrive.”

            Wells nods and as we follow her into the village, father whispers to Octavia, “Stop making a fool of yourself. You walk around like you’re playing Trikru instead of actually taking the time to understand it.”

            Octavia looks like she is transforming into Trikru. Anya said that Indra made Octavia her Second, something that father and Anya are not happy about due the circumstances. Anya had no trouble taking Charlotte under her wing but she is twelve, young enough to still be molded into a Trikru warrior. Octavia is seventeen and more prone to rebellion and willfulness.

            Seconds are taught to be ruthless, strong, and brutal fighters, but they are taught to have empathy from an early age. Empathy for their fellow warriors and clan brothers and sisters. From Octavia’s body language she’s only learned the first three. Which means she doesn’t understand us like she thinks she does. She lacks empathy.

            Octavia glares at father and walks alongside Indra, who whispers something to her. Probably warning her about father’s temper.

            The activity in TonDC is what you expect when a small scale meeting is about to take place. People are setting up vendor stalls for visitors and I could see the blacksmith welding metal into weapons.

            “Will the Mountain Men find out about this meeting?” Wells answers. “They tried to stop this alliance with an assassination plot.”

            “If they tried something, they will fail,” father answers. “They will underestimate things in this scale.”

            “They will be digging their graves,” Lexa continues. “In the meantime, let’s chat while we wait for Azgeda.”

           

* * *

 

            “How many are in the compound?” Lexa asks Wells.

            “Bellamy said over three hundred,” Wells answers. “It’s not going to be long until they find out there is a face that stands out.”

            “Hopefully it will not happen until after he disables the Acid Fog,” father answers. “We’re not marching our warriors into that.”

            “If everything has gone downhill quickly with the Sky People, either their leader became inpatient or there was a coup,” Anya continues. “Either way, we must have a backup plan in case their leader is a snake.”

            “What are you suggesting, Anya?” Lexa asks, weaving her fingers together.

            “If they fail with assassination attempts and when time comes to break down their door, they will make a last ditch effort to break the alliance,” Anya answers. “By offering a deal in expense for the Sky People.”

            With how things are going, I will not be surprised that the parasites will avoid losing their blood supply. They probably think our blood is useless at the moment.

            “This is only a rescue mission, Anya,” Titus says. “Clarke expressed desire that the goal was to not wipe them out.”

            “The Skaikru’s blood must be more superior then ours if they have got them on lockdown,” Anya argues. “They might decide on bone marrow and if that’s the case, they’ll become immune like us. They will wipe us out if they do reach the ground and you know it. Also, it’s against the code to offer our allies on a silver platter to the enemy.”

            “Anya is right,” Lexa agrees, standing up. “We don’t abandon our allies. I have an alternative plan but it has ramifications.”

            “Whatever you suggest, everyone in Mount Weather is going to die in the end,” Wells points out.

            “If their leader offers me a deal, I will only pretend to take it,” Lexa answers. “They will think that they won, but we’ll pull the rug from beneath their feet. It might result in the annihilation of everyone in that Mountain if their leader refuses to cooperate, but that consequence is unavoidable. I will elaborate on it after the meeting.”

            “What about Ice Nation?” asks Wells. “Are they going to know of this?”

            Not likely.

            “Because of past tensions, no,” Lexa confirms. “They will use it to their advantage.”

            “There is also the risk that that they will seize all the credit,” father adds, “thus weakening the Commander’s power over the Coalition.”

 

* * *

 

            It’s been two hours since Wells arrived and now our Azgeda guests have arrived. Prince Roan looking aristocratic as ever with his furs and his snow white horse. The ambassador, Ivan and his bodyguard Atohl right behind him. Oh, and I thought I see Thade, the leader of Ice Nation’s military forces with Ontari, his daughter, riding beside him. Her black hair slick as ever. I hate to wonder why she keeps it so shiny.

            And of course, Queen Nia will not show up and she’ll send her son instead in case something happens. Shows how expendable he is to her.

            “The one in the grey furs is Prince Roan,” I point out to Wells. “The people right behind him is the ambassador and his bodyguard. Then there is General Thade and Ontari right after them.”

            Wells shakes his head. “General Thade, like that bad chimpanzee in _Planet of the Apes_?” he asks before catching himself. “Sorry, I know that you never had access to movies like we did.”

            “It’s alright,” I assure him. “I have read _Planet of the Apes_ but I’m predictably not familiar with the movie.”

            “Also, he is a dead ringer for Tim Roth, the guy who played the movie General Thade,” Wells continues. “Without all that chimpanzee makeup.”

            As our Ice Nation guests are leaving their horses, I see that Ontari and Thade are eyeing me. Considering that they knew my romantic history with Lexa, they are bound to bring it up and cause problems, complicating the meeting.

            I look around. We’re in full view in front of everyone else but they will find out anyway. I turn to Wells, cup my hand around his neck and kiss him fully on the lips. His body freezes from surprise but he puts his hand on my waist. I put my other hand on his shoulder before we part our lips.

            Looking at the surprised gleam in his eyes, he didn’t expect it. Looking further at the bystanders, Lexa’s eyes are widened, Titus is shaking his head in disapproval though the absence of shock is visible on father’s and Anya’s faces. Perhaps she picked something up.

            Meanwhile, Ontari and Thade’s noses are wrinkled in disgust while Roan is smiling in amusement. What’s so amusing about it?

            Ontari takes a step forward and sneers, “I never knew you would stoop so low to catch a Sky Rat, Costia. Wouldn’t your father be disappointed in you for wanting to defile your bloodline? The stench could infect your Nightblood.”

            “Be careful what you say, Ontari, or I will add a scar to your already scarred face,” I threaten, putting my hand to my knife.

            “Be careful or father will slice your head clean from your neck,” Ontari threatens.

            “Stop,” Wells says. “We’re in front of everyone before a big meeting.”

            He turns and I look to the direction he’s looking at. Clarke just rode in with her horse. So she changed her mind. Judging by her expression, something troubles her.

            Wells and Octavia approach her and I watch as I stride closer with her. Her fists are clenched and she’s biting her lip. Something happened.

            “Clarke of the Sky People has finally graced us with her presence,” says Lexa as Clarke and Wells step closer. I thought I see admiration in Lexa’s eyes when she is looking at Clarke.

            “I apologize, Commander,” Clarke says. “Do you mind if I speak to you and Wells in private?”

            “Of course,” Lexa answers with a nod. “This way.”

            “What is going on?” I ask Wells.

“I don’t know but it doesn’t sound good,” Wells answers before departing with Lexa and Clarke.

 

* * *

 

Ten minutes later, Lexa calls for the dignitaries and high ranking military officials for a emergency meeting. That was ten minutes ago. Octavia and Atohl are guard one end while Nigel and I guard one end.

Then they come riding in. Kane and Abby get off of horses and Abby strides to me. “Where is Clarke?” she asks me. “She left Camp Jaha couple hours ago in duress.”

“I don’t know,” I answer. “The three of them went away to talk and ten minutes later they call for an emergency meeting.”

“Has there been a development in Mount Weather?” Kane asks me.

“I don’t know but it’s like something frightened her,” I answer. It could be but we don’t know. It’s scary as there are ten thousand possible things they could think of.

Father, Anya, and Indra come out of the meeting building and when they see Kane and Abby, walk towards us. “Right on time,” father answers. “We have sobering information to tell you but inside the building as the trees have ears.”

“What is it?” Abby asks, panic on her features.

“You’ll see,” Anya says after Indra fetches Octavia, who is coming out of the bushes with pursed lips. I don’t know what that was about. They lead us into the main building and into a room adjacent to the meeting room.

We sit down and father says, “Clarke was communicating with Bellamy when they heard their leader and our former captive talk about another attempt to sabotage the alliance and from there, the leader said something about attacking this location with a missile.”

The blood drains in my face and I slump into my seat. A missile. I should have known. Only this time the guests and the residents are in danger.

The horror is visible on Kane, Octavia, and Abby’s faces. Charlotte looks like she wet herself.

“Then we should evacuate everyone from this village,” Abby says.

“If we evacuate everyone, it will be suspicious,” Indra counters. “They will find out quicker that they are being infiltrated.”

“According to the Commander, Wells informed her that they will find out that they are being infiltrated regardless since the Mountain has a population of over three hundred people,” Anya continues. “With a population that small, it will only take a couple days for them to discover that there is a face that doesn’t belong. The Commander was originally not going to evacuate but Wells convinced her to perform a partial evacuation.”

“Partial?” Kane demands. “We need to evacuate everyone. Everyone’s life matters.”

“We understand but we can’t risk evacuating everyone, since he will be revealed faster that way,” father points out. “Would you rather have no evacuation then a partial evacuation?”

“Also, with this they will think that they would win,” Anya continues. “That is until we march to their door. After all, what is war without a body count?”


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

            The missile was speculated to hit at nightfall when the meeting was supposed to take place. Since people would be either going inside for the meeting or having dinner, evacuation was supposed to start before nightfall to avoid suspicion.

            Not only will our guests leave the village for a short time but also people like the village blacksmith, the healer, the cobbler, and their families.

            The question they asked was: how do we get out.

            “Before the bombs, this place when it used to be a city had functioning underground tunnels,” Indra says as Octavia pulls the handle and opens the trapdoor. “There were plenty of conspiracy theories floating around regarding the tunnels.”

            “And I assume that the United States government used them to get to Mount Weather when the first twenty-seven bombs hit?” Wells theorizes.

            I should hardly be surprised. Wells has genius level intellect.

            “Good thing you have him,” Indra states, looking at Wells. “That boy has a good head on his shoulders.”

            As Lexa steps down the ladder first, Kane asks, “Will we have to worry about the Mountain Men coming across us?”

            “No,” father answers. “They have no use for the tunnels as they assume that a mutated beast exists in the tunnels. We use materials to keep up that illusion.”

            After Wells, Lexa, and Clarke descend down the ladder, it’s father’s turn, followed by Indra and Anya before the rest would follow. I keep myself steady as I climb down. I make sure that I don’t slip before jumping down. When Nyko comes down, then it’s our Ice Nation guests.

            Kane turns on a flashlight as Wells, Lexa, and Clarke wrap their heads in muslin shawls.

            “Any hint where we might exit?” Roan asks.

            Anya points down the dark corridors. “This corridor leads to a intersection. There, we’ll split up. there are doors that lead up to the area a few yards from the village.”

            “We could use the tunnels to get to Mount Weather,” Clarke theorizes.

            I scoff. The Mountain Men figured out how to avoid that scenario, genius.

            “The Mountain Men have blocked it off on their end,” Indra answers.

            We all travel through the metal, rusted out corridor. The flashlight casting shadows on the walls. Rats varying in size running by the walls.

            After walking five minutes, Abby stops. “This is ridiculous. I’m heading back to warn people.”

            Father grabs Abby by the arm. “And get vaporized in the process? Leaving your daughter parentless?”

            “Clarke should know what to do.” She looks at her daughter. “Clarke, I know you don’t want to keep this a secret from half the village’s population. They deserve to know. You don’t want the blood of many on your hands. You will not be able to wash it off.”

            White hot rage fills me as Clarke opens her mouth. That lousy hypocrite.

            “Mother, we –

            “No,” I say. “What place do you have to criticize her for what’s going to happen, when you turned in your own husband for wanting to go public about the life support flaw in your Space Castle.”

            Abby’s skin turns puce. “I did not know how you found out but it was never my intention to get him executed. Thelonious Jaha was supposed to talk him out of it.”

            Kane bows his head. Like he feels responsible for something.

            I roll my eyes. “Don’t give me that malarkey. You should have known that your council and possibly Vice Chancellor will feel differently. People were being floated left for right for minor infractions and you decided to risk your husband’s life by telling Wells’ father, thinking that he was some special snowflake? You should have better awareness then that. Don’t criticize your daughter for having blood on your hands when your own hands are covered in blood.”

            “I –” Abby says, like her words are trapped in her throat.

            The tunnel shakes and we hear a grinding noise above before it stops.

            “That was the missile,” Wells says, looking above. “We need to keep going.”

            We walk further down the tunnel, my blood pounding in my ears and I keep Wells in a vice grip to keep my balance. My teeth are shattering like crazy.

            “Thank you,” Clarke tells me.

            “Don’t thank me,” I point out. “I just hate hypocrisy.”

            Behind us, Kane tells Abby, “It was my fault for what happened. I pushed for Jake’s execution and your daughter’s incarceration when there could have been alternatives.”

            “But the other councilmembers voted for it, too, didn’t they?” Anya points out. “Things like that don’t go through without a vote.”

            His silence is telling.

            When we reach an intersection of tunnel, Lexa says, “This is where we separate. Clarke, Wells, and I will go north with Lincoln. Our Ice Nation guests will go left while Tristan, Anya, Indra, and the rest will go right.”

            “Commander, the Mountain probably sent somebody, like a sniper, to make sure that everyone is dead,” Wells points out. “He or she is probably out there now.”

            “Then that person should be taken care of,” Lexa points out. We all split ways, with Kane’s flashlight lighting up our path. The smell of rust and mildew permeates the air. I clutch my belt to keep myself steady.

            “Of all my years of studying the history of this continent, it never crossed my mind that the government would use the tunnels to get to Mount Weather,” Kane says. “The bombs fell so suddenly that it never occurred to us that they survive.”

            “Then your people must be dumb as soup,” Finnegan, the blacksmith, grunts.

            “You have to be if you think that they would die from radiation poisoning over a week,” I put in. “When you put a group of people in a microwave, they will be roasted alive immediately. That’s how radiation poisoning works.”

            “How would you know?” Abby asks, her tone rich with skepticism.

            “The first generation of Woods Clan members saw a group leave their Mountain home, and most of them roasted to death from the radiation,” Anya answers. “A few months later, they made the rounds to snatching people from their homes. Since they are slowly annihilating us, they are not cured yet.”

            “It’s been two centuries,” Kane says. “The Earth is supposed to be safe for human life by now. Our first generation ran simulations.”

           “It started with twenty-seven ICBMs from China enroute to the former United States,” father points out, “which started a chain reaction. The total nuclear warheads that were deployed that day came around to two hundred and thirty. And a year after, any nuclear plants that were untouched by the bombs most likely melted down. You are two hundred years off.”

            “We shouldn’t be off,” Abby insists.

            “It only takes twenty nukes to irradiate the world,” Anya points out. “Even before the Nuclear Apocalypse, places like Chernobyl, Fukushima, and Bikini Atoll were still positive for radioactivity. Amazing how you have technology but you’re scientifically inept.”

            “There is a ladder,” father says. “We should be a few miles away from the target. Anya and Charlotte go first.”

            It’s Charlotte who climbs the ladder first, followed by Anya who places her hand on her back to keep her steady. Then I climb up the ladder after Anya. I take steady breaths as I tightly grip the bars. When we reach normal level again, it’s like I’m a fish out of water. From a distance is the sound of screams and sobs from the village. Anya and Charlotte both stand in attention and I hear the sound of a pop from behind me.

            A few yards away, someone is illuminated by the fire caused by the impact. The illumination gives us a clue that he’s not either Skaikru or Trikru. That he’s a Mountain Man sniper. However, it looks like that he’s not wearing a hazmat suit.

            Yep, they are curing them with the Sky People’s blood.

            Anya puts her finger to her lips and whispers, “Don’t make your footsteps obvious.”

            They both sneak to the sniper and my heart pounds in every radius of my body as the others join me from behind. “ _Are they going to kill him?_ ” asks the Cobbler’s daughter.

            Indra shushes her as Anya wraps her arm around the neck of the sniper. He flails and after she removes the gun from his hold, he tries to pry her arm off with his fingers.

            “No! Please!” he begs as Charlotte takes out a knife that Anya must have given her. Anya grabs the nape of his neck and gives Charlotte a nod. Charlotte sticks the knife into the side of his neck. Blood gushes from his neck and he quickly gurgles before Anya tosses the body towards the ground.

            He crawls for a few seconds before plopping onto the ground lifelessly. Anya puts her hand on Charlotte’s shoulder and says something to her.

            “Are you out of your mind?” Abby demands to her. “She’s not just a pawn to kill people for you.”

            “It’s a normal training technique,” Anya points out. “Also, that’s rich coming from a woman who sees everyone but her daughter as expendable pawns for your objectives.”

 

* * *

 

           

            Going back into the village, the sight of it makes my intestines curdle and my brain want to fall from my skull. It looks like those WWII pictures of bombed out British and German cities. Some buildings are ablaze and the buildings are nothing but crumbled rumble and skeletons.

            Destruction courtesy of our “friends” at Mount Weather. The sounds of people sobbing and the sight of others trying to sift through the rubble boil my blood and bloodlust fills every inch of my body. I visualize every person (except for the Bellamy, the forty-seven trapped Delinquents, and our people) in Mount Weather moan in pain as their skin blisters red from the radiation and I feel gratification at that very image.

            “I need some help here!” I hear Abby shout. “There are people trapped in here!”

            I decide to do my part and pick up a few stones from the rubble she’s at. With Nigel quickly following my lead.

            “ _Heda. Heda. Heda_ ,” people chant, and I look up to see Lexa standing on a piece of rubble. With Clarke on her left and Wells to her right.

            “What happened here will not stand,” Lexa proclaims, her body rigid. “The Mountain will fall.” She raises her arm and exclaims, “The dead will be avenged!”

            A yell tears from my lungs as I join in with the shouting. “ _Jus Drein Jus Daun_!” I shout, a few others joining me.

            “Enough,” I hear Abby shout. “Enough!”

            Everyone quiets down and we all look at her.

            “There are people trapped inside,” Abby shouts. “I heard them. We need to dig them out now.”

            Several people join her and begin removing rocks from the pile of rubble when father approaches me as Nigel hands him his pack. “The Commander is ordering that we leave for Brighton right now to prepare for our battle with the Mountain.”

            It doesn’t surprise me. After everything that has happened and now this, we can’t wait any longer. However, there is one unanswered question.

            “There is the Acid Fog to worry about, father,” I point out.

            “I am sure that he will disable it before we get close to the Mountain,” father assures me. “If he’s savvy enough to eavesdrop on a private conversation, he’s going to savvy enough to disable the Acid Fog before we get there.”

            Hopefully it’s true.

           I see Anya and Clarke part from a conversation before the latter approaches her mother. Wells approaches us.

            “So, we’re really going to war, are we?” he asks. The last time he asked that sort of question was when the Delinquents and my clan were on the verge of conflict after a series of misunderstandings culminated into an explosive decision and that question fits this situation well.

            “They started it nearly two centuries ago,” I say. “Only it’s gotten cold. It merely heated up and you only entered the picture.”

            “It’s ending the way it started,” father says to him. “The Mountain Men preying on people that are resistant to radiation. When things come full circle, that means it comes to an end.”

           Something that the Mountain Men should have thought about since they were about to prey on the forty-seven Delinquents.


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

            We return to Brighton Village right before first light. The people from Ice Nation went back to their territory to give Queen Nia the message while Abby and Kane stayed behind in TonDC to take care of the aftermath of Mount Weather’s attack.

            “So, they are using bone marrow,” Wells says as we pass through the village gates.

            “Since we heard drilling from the other end, that’s what I could think of,” Clarke confirms. “Since the sniper wasn’t wearing the hazmat suit, it works. Which means they are killing our friends.”

            “Doesn’t bone marrow grow back?” Nigel asks. “That’s what I read in a medical book.”

            “Only if it’s done in a reasonable pace and with a reasonable amount,” Clarke answers.

            “From the sound of it, they are doing it in a pace that will kill them,” I point out. “That’s bad for all of us.”

            Wells, Lexa, Clarke, father, Anya, and Indra convene in the parlor of my house, all of them surrounding a three-dimensional model of the Mount Weather complex. Octavia and I are standing at the door for security. And I can’t help but side glare at her a few times.

            “This operation has four parts, in other words done by four groups,” Clarke starts. “The first group will go through the Reaper tunnels to free the prisoners; for the second, inside the Mountain, Bellamy will free the Grounder prisoners; the third group, composed of Raven and Kyle Wick will blow up the dam turbines at Philpot Dam; and the fourth group will be at the door, and our goal is that they will only look at the group at the door.”

            Interesting plan.

            “Do any of you have any preferences to which group you will like to be part of?” Lexa asks, looking at father, Anya, and Indra.

            Indra is the first to speak, “I will lead the first group through the tunnels. I want to ensure we get our people out.”

            “Very well,” Lexa says. “Do you have a idea which group you want to oversee, Anya?”

            Anya removes her knuckles from her chin, as if she was thinking it over. “I and five members of my unit will be with the two at the dam. Someone has to be there to watch them in case the Mountain Men disrupt the process.”

            “Alright.” Lexa turns to father. “Then that means you want to partake in the group at the door.”

            Father turns to look at Lexa. “Someone has to help keep an eye on the warriors at the front door in case anything happens. I don’t want to miss anything either.”

            “This is only a rescue mission, Tristan,” Clarke says. “We have to keep their eyes on us so they wouldn’t look what will be going on inside. It’s not a real battle.”

            “They won’t know that,” father points out.

            “Exactly,” Clarke replies. “When our people are out, we’ll sound the retreat.”

            “Still, the Mountain Men will take some of my warriors out in the process,” father points out.

            “I understand your concern,” Clarke replies.

            “Even if the army at the front is meant to be a diversion, things will still go wrong,” Wells points out. “The Mountain Men will take a shot at us.”

            “Regardless what happens, what matters is that we get our people back,” Lexa says. “We spare the innocent but we’ll kill their leadership if we have to.”

            Clarke nods in agreement as Lexa shifts to the other side of the map.

            “Unless, we reach a complication,” Lexa continues.

            “What complication, Lexa?” Clarke asks.

            “Before you arrived with the news of the missile, Wells, Anya, Tristan, Titus, and I had a discussion,” Lexa continues. “Wells made the excellent point that we don’t know what’s going on in that Mountain when our inside man is not reporting. Since Anya thinks that the current leader of the Mountain Men might be a snake, I came up with a alternative plan if this plan doesn’t work.”

            “What plan?” Clarke asks, like she knows it’s something bad. Wells shifts his feet like he dreads her reaction.

            I myself grip my belt.

            “Considering the new information we received after the events of last night, it looks like the Skaikru’s bone marrow is a more desirable treatment for them then our blood,” says Lexa. “Anya thinks that the Mountain Men might make a last minute effort to tear apart this alliance, by offering me a deal at the expense of your people.”

            Clarke’s eyes turn to saucers. “If that happens, every one of my people will die.”

            “And if they die, the Mountain Men will be cured and they will wipe this clan out,” Lexa points out. “Two things that we cannot afford. If and when they offer the deal, I will only seem to accept it. We will sound the retreat but only most of us will retreat. Scouts will watch the area while a team led by the three of us and Anya will go inside the Mountain to get the Sky People out.”

            Titus, who hasn’t spoken for the past few minutes, stands up from his chair. “When you said the three of us, you didn’t mean…”

            “I meant Clarke, Wells, and myself, yes,” Lexa confirms. “Anya and a team of mixed Trikru and Skaikru will go in the Mountain with us.”

            “ _Heda_ , it will only result in your death,” Titus says.

            “I can take care of myself,” Lexa argues before turning to the others. “When we enter the compound, we will try to convince the leader to free the Skaikru. And if their leader doesn’t cooperate…”

            Clarke drops the ball. “If he doesn’t cooperate, that means we irradiate the compound,” Clarke deduces. She shakes her head. “No, tell me that there is another way. There are people who had nothing to do with what happened. Children, even.”

            “Unfortunately, the innocent often get caught in the middle of a war,” Anya somberly points out. “It’s a unavoidable consequence of war. Even if we try to avoid having innocent blood on our hands, they still get drenched in it.”

            “There has to be another way,” Clarke pleads. “Still, you could think of one that doesn’t involve innocent people getting killed.”

            “If it was just a warrior compound that was free of civilians, it would be easy,” father points out. “Due to the situation, it will not be feasible to find a plan that doesn’t kill everyone.”

            Clarke turns to Wells. “There should be something.”

            Wells hesitates to shake his head. “What would it be? Even if we replace their leader with someone better, there will be someone who would want to take our blood by force and it might not be long until we get back to the circumstances we are in right now.”

            Clarke shakes her head.

            “I don’t want this outcome either, but this is the type of conflict where one of the two parties dies for the other to live,” Wells points out.

            Clarke gulps and doesn’t speak for a few seconds before she nods. “Alright,” she says. “Any ideas about who should join us from your end?”

            “We have a handful of people that might be willing,” Anya answers. “Just five as it wouldn’t be so obvious.”

            And those couple of them would be people with strong relationships with a Sky Person. Like Lincoln and I.

 

* * *

 

            Before the Nuclear Apocalypse, people would drink coffee and watch from a television to hear what changes they might expect in the weather. Now, just like the days before technology, we rely on our senses.

            Tomorrow marks the start of November and our almanac projected snowfall around that time. Leaving my house after the meeting, one could sense it snow anytime now. The air is cold. Cold enough to bite your cheeks raw and it feels dry. Not to mention that the clouds are grey, thick, and low leveled. A nimbostratus cloud according to the books.

            And it’s like Wells has learned how to sense the weather. Perhaps from his Earth Skills teacher.

            “It’s going to snow,” he says, looking up at the sky.

            “Yeah,” I say. “That means we will wear furs.”

            Clarke steps beside us, wrapping her arms around her body. “Cold. Dry. It could snow anytime soon.”

            “Which is why we need to wear furs when we march up to the Mountain,” I say.

            “We might need to wear them now,” Wells points out. “Unless we want pneumonia.”

            I lead them to the village clothing cache, where the warriors are already taking what they need to keep warm. I survey Clarke and Wells’s expressions as they look around the building and their widened eyes suggest that they never seen this wide clothing selection.

            “This is more then what we had in the Ark,” Clarke says, picking up a blue tinted, leather jacket that is adorned with white fox fur.

            “That is because they don’t have limited resources,” Wells points out. He picks up a pair of fur boots.

            “Not surprising if one lives in space,” I point out. “I’ll be right back. I just need to change into my winter battle gear.”

            My winter battle gear is in the drawers at the bottom of my wardrobe containing my battle gear. The black leather jacket is adorned with grey wolf fur down the back and the bust. The pants and the mitts are adorned with fur as well. One might argue that the furs would put extra weight on the body but we still manage to be flexible. Winter is coming, so we need to keep warm during battle.

            I dash out after I change into my winter furs. There is a flurry of activity outside. Either people are coming back from hunting expeditions with their finds or preparing for battle. Gathering the horses, weapons, and other necessary supplies.

            Outside the artillery, Anya is overseeing people loading up a wagon. Because of the caution they are handing them with, they could only be materials to make explosives. Most likely for Raven to use to blow up the turbines in the dam.

            I rush back into the village cache, where I see Clarke has donned the first jacket that I saw her pick up and she’s in the process on tying on a pair of fur covered boots. Meanwhile, I see that Wells is shrugging his arms into a black wool coat adorned with the fur of a white fox.

            “Was the warmest I could think of,” he tells me as he straps the coat shut. “Now, I need gloves and boots.

            I grab a pair of each and hand them to him. “Here. I doubt the fingerless mitts will provide the same effect.”

            “Thanks,” he replies with a smile before pulling the boots into his feet. He ties them tight before pulling on his gloves.

            Someone opens the door and I see Octavia coming in. blowing her hands and rubbing them together. With Charlotte close behind her.

            “It’s like its ten degrees colder then yesterday,” Octavia says. “Indra said that there would be battle furs here.”

            I grab the nearest fur adorned coat and throw it at her face. “Here. I found one for you,” I say before turning to Charlotte. “The furs for the younger warriors are in the back. I’ll show you.”

            I take her hand and lead her farther to the back of the building.

            “Why are you upset about Octavia wanting to become one of you?” asks Charlotte. “You are not upset about Anya taking me in as her Second.”

            “That is because she thinks she knows everything about us but she doesn’t,” I answer. “There is more to being Trikru then being a warrior. You have to be a strong fighter, ruthless and brutal to your enemies, and empathetic to your fellow warriors and Trikru.”

            “That’s what Anya said,” Charlotte tells me. “Strength. Ruthlessness. Coldness. Empathy. The entire Trikru warrior mantra.”

            “And I doubt that Octavia cares about the last one,” I point out. I take out a small jacket adorned with the fur of a grizzly bear and pull the sleeves through her arms. “Here. That way you’re not shivering when you’re at the front of the Mountain.”

            Charlotte tightens the jacket around her waist by strapping the belts together and my eyes find Wells across the room. With him smiling at me.

            I curve my lips into a smile, returning the gesture.

 

* * *

 

            Lunch begins as people pack food into the carriages to the battle of Mount Weather, though Clarke would insist that it’s not a real battle. I eat in my home dining room alongside Wells, father, Lexa, Anya, and Clarke. I see that Nigel has already insulated the windows with cloth.

            “If everything goes well, hopefully we will have a bountiful banquet in Polis,” Lexa says. “To celebrate the two clans defeating the Mountain.”

            “Polis?” Wells asks.

            “The capital city for the entire Coalition,” Anya answers. “Where large scale summits are held and the Commander’s residence.”

            “I thought TonDC was the political hub,” Clarke states, raising her eyebrow in confusion.

            “Only for small scale meetings between this clan and another,” father points out. “In Polis, there are meetings between the ambassadors of all twelve clans and the military leaders of all twelve clans.”

            “You should come to Polis during the annual Days of Christmas Festival and the Christmas Gala,” I tell Wells after taking a bite from a leg of chicken. “It’s beautiful. You will love what the vendors sell too.”

            “Um, you got something in your mouth,” Wells says to me.

            “Where?” I ask, grabbing my napkin.

            Before I could think to wipe it off, he cups my face with his hands and places his lips on mine, licking the side of my mouth with his tongue.

            I giggle in response and from the corner of my eyes, I could see that Lexa is looking wistfully at us. Titus is shaking his head.

            “Please refrain from that disgusting display,” Titus chides.

            Anya scowls as she takes a bite from her corn on the cob. “You are going to see more of those relationships as the time goes by,” she points out. “You have to accept it.”

            “Forgive me, Anya,” Titus says. “I doubt that Tristan himself would allow his own daughter to –

            “What my daughter does with her personal life is up to her and her alone,” father defends. “If she likes him, I have no place to interfere.”

            “You wouldn’t be saying that last month,” Titus scoffs. “I suspect those two have gotten attached long before this alliance.”

            “That is true, yes,” father acknowledges with a nod. “However, since the circumstances are different, I do not hold a protest.”

            I try to hide a snicker as I look at Titus’s look of dissatisfaction from father’s answer. There will be some inter-clan relationships in the future, so he might as well stop complaining.

 

* * *

 

            By nightfall, wind starts to pick up and with almost all of us bundled up in furs, we take our supplies and march out of the village. Indra and her crew are going to make way for the mines when it’s time and Anya is going to meet with Raven and Wick when they get to Philpot dam.

            Its ten hours from Brighton Village to Mount Weather, but when it gets to seven hour distance, we set up the tents for the night.

            After my dinner of soup and bread, I go into the tent that I share with father, my brother, and Anya. I remove my furs and pull off my boots.

            “We’re actually doing this,” Nigel says to me across the tent. “We’re actually taking on Mount Weather.”

            “Yes, Nigel,” I confirm. “You’re not dreaming one bit. They should have come to a end a century and a half ago.”

            He pauses and asks me, “Do you think mother would still be here if it weren’t for the Reapers? If they didn’t decide to kill us off slowly.”

            I feel tears pricking from my eyes and I feel some run down my cheeks. Oh, how true it was. Had the Mountain Men been wiped out years ago, mother would still be alive. She would still be here and not one of those who died because they wanted her blood for radiation treatment.

            “Yes, Nigel,” I gasp. “Yes, she still would be here.”

            I wipe the tears from my eyes as he says, “I remember when she would read to us. Sing the ancient lullaby to us if we were scared. Right now, I feel like singing it to myself. That way I don’t have to be afraid what tomorrow brings. What if the inside man doesn’t know that we’re coming and the Mountain kills us with that fog?”

            “Nigel, Clarke contacted Raven last hour so she could tell Bellamy that we’re coming,” I assure him, running my hands through his blonde hair, that was a shade lighter then my own. “He’s not going to let us walk into death and father wouldn’t have agreed to this if he thought it wouldn’t succeed. Understand?”

            He nods and I kiss him on the cheek before hugging him for a few moments.

            A few minutes later, I’m huddled in my blankets reading a chapter from A Song of Ice and Fire when Wells enters the tent.

            “Um, I’m going outside,” Nigel says awkwardly as he stands up from his chair. “Father might want me to be on watch.”

            He walks out and disappears behind the flaps of the tent. I look at Wells and move over to provide room for him. He goes over and slips under my blankets; wrapping his arm around my waist. I clasp my hand on his.

            “It could be just me but I thought I saw some snow spitting out just now,” Wells states.

            “It will pick up I’m sure,” I say, grazing my fingers over his. “It begins to snow before we descend onto Mount Weather. How theatrical.”

            I turn to look at him and see that he looks troubled, like something has been eating him up for hours but only now does he show it.

            “Is something a matter?” I ask him. “Something must be eating you up inside.”

            He sighs. “Just before the missile, Mrs. Griffin showed me a note that my father wrote. He left a few days ago with twelve people to look for the City of Light. To find a better place then here. That he was going to return with more people.”

            I blow the air into my cheeks and let it out. “He comes down only to want to look for some mythological place? I…his priorities are skewed. He should be with you, not trekking across the Dead Zone.”

            “He wanted me to come with him but I refused,” Wells says. “I wanted to be here to see everything through and I was afraid to leave. What if things fell apart if I left? Besides, my friends that are stuck in the Mountain would think I gave up on them.”

            “Well, you’re not wrong there,” I answer. “Two people are not enough to keep the alliance together.”

            He sighs. “Yet, it bothers me every time I think about it. I keep seeing the look on my father’s face when I refused to go with him. There was disappointment and hurt. That was the last thing I wanted to do was to hurt him.”

            It’s obvious what he’s thinking. That he part of him wishes that he could have accepted and gone off with his father and twelve others. That part of him regrets it. I could understand his discomfort about hurting his father.

            “Part of you wishes that you were with him,” I point out.

            He nods. “If I did, I wouldn’t hurt him but it would be hurting my friends and others in the long run if I accepted his request. It’s a double edged sword.”

            “Making tough decisions is a part of life,” I point out. “There are times that we have to make tough sacrifices and everyone gets hurt. Hurting your father was never your decision yet you didn’t make the wrong choice by staying here. Clarke needs you, your friends need you, I need you.”

            “I remember when you said something similar to me over a month ago, that tough decisions are apart of life,” he answers, “but what if something happens to father and he doesn’t come back? What if he gets killed? He’s the only family I have.”

            “Then your friends will be your family,” I assure him before placing his hand to my chest where my heart is. “I’ll be your family. Family isn’t

            He threads his fingers through my hair and grazes one of my braids with his thumb. “I never told you before that I love you,” he says.

            We never exchanged those three words before but if we both die, we might as well exchange them.

            I kiss his hand and whisper, “I love you too, Wells.”

 

* * *

 

            The next morning, we wake up to the ground dusted with snow and snow was coming down like rain. To protect the pot of breakfast, someone erected a tarp to ward off the snow. Everyone was dressed in furs and had clothes to protect their mouths and noses from the bitter cold.

            The look on Wells’, Octavia’s, and Clarke’s faces were priceless. For a moment it was like they forgot that a war was going on. Clarke stuck her tongue out to collect the flakes; Wells was cupping his hands to collect some and Octavia said, “This can’t be real.”

            “It is,” I assure. “This is the first time you’re seeing snow fall for real instead of seeing it on a screen.”

            “Seeing it before my eyes is better than seeing it on a screen,” Wells points out.

            All of us huddle around fires as we keep our breakfast bowls warm. I have just cleared my plate when the sound of the war horn blares.

            Bloodlust ignites in me at the sound. Something that I haven’t felt when that murderer died for killing my young sister and seventeen innocents. It courses through every core of my body. Everyone in that Mountain will meet their end today.

            We dismantle our camp and we all trudge through the falling snow; the snow piling on around our feet as we march. The snow collecting on the evergreen trees. Thankfully this isn’t a white out or we wouldn’t be seeing our destination.

            When I see the glint of the giant satellites from a distance, I grab Nigel’s hand and take a deep breath. They know we are coming for them and they will be ready to deploy that Acid Fog anytime now.

            Seconds from now.

            Minutes pass and we keep going. No sign of the menacing green-yellow tornado that would emit its poisonous fog. Squirrels are running up trees carrying acorns as usual instead of scattering quickly.

            With no sign of the fog, my body slouches and tension escapes my body.

            Bellamy did it. He disabled the Acid Fog.

            Trikru and Skaikru: three points. Mount Weather: zero.


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

“Welcome, _Skaikru_ ,” Lexa greets in her tent that afternoon as the chief guard and some of his fellow Skaikru file in. “Join us.”

            All of them are walking in cautiously and slowly. Sergeant David Miller – as they call him – approaches Wells, Lexa, and Clarke with a container. “A package from Raven. Hydrazine. She said it would do the job,” he says.

            According to what I heard from the leadership, that job was blowing up the lock in that massive door before the power comes back on.

            “Good,” Clarke says with a nod.       

            “And uh…your mother wanted to be here too,” he informs her.

            I bite my lip. Abby would complicate everything if she was here, considering that she thinks her moral compass is infallible when she has done stuff that would suggest otherwise.

            “I know, but the wounded at TonDC need her more,” says Clarke.

            He nods and walks away to rejoin his group of Skaikru.

            “Today’s the day we get our people back,” Lexa announces to everyone assembled in the tent. “The enemy thinks it’s safe behind its doors, but it’s not. When it realizes that, it will fight back. Hard. We need to be ready.”

            I could feel the adrenaline begin to course through my body as the nostalgia sets in. Oh, I cannot wait for the Mountain to fall.        

            Lexa nods at Clarke, who begins speaking. “This is a rescue mission. We are not here to wipe them out.”

            I could hear the mutters of discontent in the tent and Wells’ mere presence prevents me from joining. He shouldn’t know about the genocidal thoughts running through my head.

            “There are people inside that Mountain that have helped us,” she continues, “children who have nothing to do with this war. We kill their soldiers, their leadership if we have to, but we are there to rescue our people. Is that clear?”

            “Yes, ma’am,” mutter some of the Guardsmen in reply.

            “Then let’s begin,” says Clarke before she nods to Wells.

            He approaches the model of our target. “This mission has four teams. Four teams with different objectives yet operating under the same goal.” He puts his hand on one area of the model. “Two of them, at the dam and in the mine, are moving into position already. The third team is inside the Mountain and as I speak, they are freeing the Trikru and Azkru captives. It is our job as the fourth team to keep the eyes off of them until our people are free. In order for it to work, we have to be in position” – he places his hand on the replica of the entrance – “here at the main door with our entire army. Our enemy believes that the door will be impossible to open from the outside, and they leave it unguarded as a result. Only it can be and according to our source from the inside, we now know how.”

            Clarke takes the torch as the nostalgia crawls to my fingertips. “According to Maya, the electromagnetic locking system has one flaw. When the power goes out, it disengages. That’s where Raven’s team comes in. The Mountain’s electricity is generated at Philpott Dam. By now, with the help of Anya and her crew, they’ve taken the turbine room.”

            Amazing how a dam could run for two centuries. It’s about time Raven pull the plug on it. She should do it with no problem considering her skill with mechanics.

            “It’s their job to blow the power,” Clarke continues. “Once we do, we blow the lock.” She pauses before saying, “There’s a catch, a backup generator inside the Mountain.”

            Why is there always a catch?

            “If the lock is still functioning when the backup power kicks in, we’ll never get that door open,” she continues. “We’ll never get our people back.”

            “How much time do we have until the backup power kicks in?” Sergeant Miller asks.

            “One minute,” Wells answers. “Unfortunately, that’s our time window. I wish it was more but it’s not.”

            “Small window,” he agrees. “Why don’t we just take out the backup generator, too? Bellamy’s inside. Have him do it.”

            “I agree, since it would save us the trouble,” father says.

            “Leaving them without power that long will kill them all,” Clarke answers, “and as I said, that’s not the mission.”

            I could tell that Clarke wants to avoid the alternative plan, but no matter what happens, the Mountain Men will all die in the end.

           “Besides, we lost contact with Bellamy,” Clarke continues.

            “What?” Monroe exclaims in disbelief. “We did? When?”

            “After he took out the Acid Fog,” Wells answers. “We haven’t heard from him since.”

            “Bellamy is a warrior,” Lexa assures. “He’ll be fine.”

            “As the Commander said, once the door opens, they will start shooting,” Wells continues, “and they will throw everything that they have at us. As the plan goes, that’s our objective. This defensive front is a distraction so Indra’s team can escort the prisoners out the back through the tunnels without complications. They will not know that, so I shouldn’t have to warn you that there might be some casualties on our end, since you have been in battles for most of your lifetimes.”

            His words are met with mutters of assent. He knows what we’re expecting.

            “Once our people our free,” Clarke continues, “they’ll sound the retreat. We’ll be back home before Mount Weather even knows they are gone. And that’s it. That’s the plan.”

            Everyone in the tent mutters about the information that was given. In the room, I could taste that my fellow warriors were uneasy about Clarke’s idealistic view of the outcome. I’m uneasy too.

            When Lexa steps forward, I could feel the adrenaline and nostalgia reaching my heart. “The Mountain has cast a shadow over these woods for too long,” Lexa starts. “For a century and a half, they’ve hunted us, controlled us, turned us into monsters. That ends today. Thanks to our alliance with the Sky People, the Mountain will fall. As Clarke said, we spare the innocent. As for the guilty, _jus drein jus daun_.”

            I chant the phrase after her, bloodlust filling every core of my body and the adrenaline pumping into my blood. Others begin chanting the manta until the tent is full of voices. The bloodlust, nostalgia, and enthusiasm can be tasted in the tent and the chanting extends to the outside.

            The only people who are not chanting are Wells and Lincoln.

 

* * *

 

            Outside we stand in the falling snow, with snow caking our feet. I grip my quiver strap tightly as I watch Monroe drill a hole into the ancient metal door. Looking at the wording, _Mount Weather Complex_ , I imagine that the majority in that Mountain are ignorant at the lions at their door.

She turns off the drill and turns to our leaders. “That should do it,” she says. “Bombs away.”       

Sergeant Miller nods as he slowly walks past our three leaders to the door. “Be careful,” says Clarke.

He nods as he slowly makes his way to the door. With Lincoln closely following him.

“Archers, watch the trees,” Lexa commands. They should watch the trees in case Ice Nation decides to crash this operation and therefore ruining everything. However, that would be stupid for them since they want their people back from the parasites.

I watch as Sergeant Miller looks at the canister of hydrazine with shaking hands before Lincoln steadies them. He says a few things to him to which he nods and puts the hydrazine can in the hole before I see a red light blink on it.

Just looking at the Mountain door sends anger and grief into me, yet this is going to a sense of closure. My mother will finally be laid to rest in our minds after all this time. Nine long years it’s been since she was taken to us when the snow blanketed the ground.

It’s very fitting that we’ll have closure with the snow falling.

“It’s been nine years,” I say, looking at the main door. “Nine years lost with her and finally we get closure.”

I feel someone place their hand on my shoulder and see father smiling faintly at me; the snow collecting on his shoulder pads.

“If your mother were here, she’d be very proud of you,” he says. “Proud of you for everything that you accomplished.”

She would be proud of me for continuing to fight Azgeda for Trikru and proud that I have took her teachings on treating injuries and handing out antidotes. She wouldn’t be proud of me for disabling Raven with the intent of scaring her.

Though I nod in response to father’s words.

The snow continues falling and the temperature drops as the sky darkens; prompting for the lights at the door to illuminate. There must be about a foot of snow on the ground.

I brush the snow off of Wells’s head and smile faintly at him.

“After this is all over, what are your plans?” I ask him.

“Well, it depends,” he answers with a shrug. “Hopefully there is no conflict to worry about.”

“One never knows,” I say truthfully. Next to us, Lexa and Clarke are softly talking and I thought I hear Lexa invite Clarke to visit Polis.

“As I said, you should come with me to Polis when Lexa has her Christmas Gala,” I say. “How we celebrate Christmas is mostly no different then how you celebrate it but it might give you a taste of a old fashioned Christmas.”

“I wouldn’t say no,” he answers.

A few minutes pass, the snowfall steadies, and the lights at the door turn off.

“She did it,” Clarke says in triumph.

No kidding. Raven is the best mechanic the Sky People have.

“We got one minute, starting now,” Sergeant Miller reminds as Wells hands Clarke the remote.

Clarke and Lexa look at each other as they hold the remote. This is it. We’re going to bring the Mountain down. My heart pounds in every inch of my body.

“For those that we lost,” says Clarke.

“And to those that we soon shall find,” Lexa continues before she presses the button. It beeps but no explosion.

What in the living blazes?

“This can’t be right,” Wells says as he takes the remote to try the attempt with no results. “They aren’t still jamming us, are they?”

“They are,” Clarke confirms before leaving her spot. “I have to get closer.”

In a split second, father grabs Clarke and forcefully pulls her farther away right as the gunfire begins. It’s like I’m back there again. I see the murderer in the village holding the gun with my sister’s corpse at his feet that for a few seconds that I’m barely aware of Wells keeping me down.

Then my mind snaps back to reality.

I watch as three of my fellow Trikru are shot down. They fall on the snow with droplets of blood by their bodies.

“If I can get there, I can trigger it manually,” Sergeant Miller tells Wells as people move around behind us to avoid getting shot.

What is he talking about? He could get killed by doing it. I grab an arrow and put it against a torch someone is holding to light it up.

“Are you insane?” Wells points out as the arrow head comes ablaze. “You can’t get there without getting yourself killed.”

“For Nate, I have to try,” he replies as I carefully pull the flaming arrow back with a bowstring.

“Costia, what are you doing?” Clarke asks me.

“Nobody is going to die just to trigger the bomb manually,” I answer as I concentrate on the blinking light before letting the arrow free.

I watch as the flaming arrowhead goes in and _boom!_ A small explosion can be seen from the lock. People notice my stunt and cheers of triumph follow.

“It worked!” Clarke exclaims in triumph.

Lexa looks up at the trees. “We need to get to that ridge and take out the shooters,” Lexa says.

Lincoln gets up.

“No!” Lexa shouts, stopping him. “You stay with Clarke and Wells.” She turns to them. “When the shooting stops, you get that door open.”

Wells and Clarke nod. Lexa looks at father and a few others.

“ _Go!_ ” she orders.

I watch as Lexa and my father leave the area behind the boulders with seven other Trikru. I watch as three are shot down before I huddle behind the boulder, taking deep breaths.

“Your father is going to be okay,” Wells assures me.

Wells is right. Father is smart and stealthy enough to not get shot by bullets.

The shooting lasts for several minutes until slowly, they stop. Like a domino effect.

Cautiously we sit up. Nothing happens.

“Lexa did it,” says Lincoln as Wells helps me to my feet.

“They’ll be waiting just inside the door,” says Clarke.

“ _Follow me!_ ” Lincoln shouts as he approaches the door. “ _Two lines!_ ”

Warriors and Guardsmen run to the door with rope.

“ _Get ready to pull!_ ” Lincoln commands before fastening the ropes to the door. I, Monroe, Corrine, and three others point at the door. I pull my arrow along the bowstring.

“Train your fire on the door,” Clarke commands.

People grunt with effort and exertion as they struggle to get the iron door open. My pulse vibrates in my fingers and chest as the feather end touches my lips. Behind us are our soldiers protected by a shield wall.

The effort continues and each is yelling to pull before the door finally cracks open. Everyone behind me shouts in victory.

“Attack!” Clarke commands.

“Stop!” shouts Lexa. “ _Stand down!_ ”

Everyone quiets down as I look to see Lexa and father walk back to where we are standing with the surviving members of their entourage. When I follow Wells and Clarke, I see that Emerson is behind them before seeing the blood splatters on both father’s and Lexa’s faces.

“What is this?” Clarke demands before I hear shouts by the door.

We look to see people walking out of the door. Barefoot, wearing nothing but undergarments with only orange blankets to keep them warm in this cold, snowy November night.

“They are surrendering?” Clarke asks.

“Not quite,” answers Emerson.

Looking at him, there is a sickening smirk on his face. Father is looking at Emerson with his nose crinkled in disgust. Grazing his own back suspiciously next to his sword handle.

Emerson looks at Lexa before it finally dawns on Wells and Clarke. Anya was right after all. They offered her a deal.

I see Wells work up a confused frown. “What is this all about, Lexa?” he asks.

It doesn’t take long to click in that Wells is simply playing along. Pretending as if there was no alternative plan to begin with.

“What you would have done,” Lexa answers. “Saved my people.”

“Where are my people?” Clarke asks. Looks like she’s picking up Wells’ gesture.

Lexa’s green eyes are apologetic. “I’m sorry. They weren’t part of the deal.”

I scowl at Emerson as he steps forward with his smirk that’s directed at Wells and Clarke. You think...you think…Just watch, leech. You didn’t win this.

Lexa cuts the restraints from Emerson’s wrists as father quietly unsheathes his sword.

“You made the right choice, Commander,” Emerson comments.

Lexa gives a nod, steps back a ways, and when Emerson turns, he has no time to run when father plunges his sword into his abdomen.

At that instant, his smirk is replaced by shock and agonizing pain. Father scowls at him as he turns the sword handle before he plunges the sword deeper into his body; impaling him. Wells and Clarke look on with wide eyes. Barely concealing their shock.

“This is make sure that you are not the last surviving member of your lot if it comes down to it,” father sneers at him. Quickly he pulls out his sword and I watch Emerson fall lifelessly to the ground; his blood pooling in the snow.

“What is this?” Lincoln asks as father wipes his sword.

“They offered the Commander a deal,” Wells explains. “They thought she took it but she really didn’t.”

“So, we’re stuck with Plan B?” Clarke asks in disbelief.

“As it stands, yes,” Lexa answers. “Wells was right; we do not know what is going on behind the curtain. Thanks to their leader, I supposedly taking the deal will give them a false sense of victory before we pull the rug from underneath them but right now, I want them to think that the terms will be met.”

The door closes behind the last person and Lexa orders, “ _Sound the retreat_.”

Ramsay lifts the horn and sounds the horn. People lower their weapons as father gestures for some people to come forward before whispering in Beaufort’s ear.

“The terms were for us to leave the territory,” Lexa states. “The sound of the retreat will only give them the illusion that my army has left.” She looks Wells. “Inform your guard to look for reinforcements. We need a few additional people.”

Father lowers the walkie talkie as he approaches Lexa; with Nigel and Ryder right behind him.

“The scouts are moving into position, Commander,” father informs her. “And I have notified Anya just moments ago.”

“Good,” she says to him before continuing, “Go with most of the army. Someone needs to tell Titus what happened.”

Father nods before turning to me and my brother. “Your job is to see this through. Understand?” he asks.

“Yes, father,” I answer as Nigel nods.

Father puts his hand on my shoulder and says, “Keep watch on him.”

He turns away and follows the retreating army with Vance and Amherst flanking him.

“Let’s go now,” Lexa says. “There is work that needs to be done. A war to finish.”

 

* * *

 

As Monroe, Sergeant Miller, and participating members of the guard leave to find reinforcements, Lincoln leads Wells, Lexa, Corrine, Nigel, Ryder, and I to the entrance of one of the Reaper tunnels five miles away from where the Mountain’s main entrance is.

“When Tristan killed Emerson, was that a signal of some sort?” Lincoln asks Lexa as we navigate through the dark tunnels.

“To signal that this alliance was not broken,” Lexa confirms. “Even if there was no backup plan, there is no guarantee that he would have kept this end of the deal. “

“Can you tell me what the leader was like just to give us a idea what we might be dealing with?” Wells asks.

“Smooth, slick,” Lexa says. “He reeked of slime. I wouldn’t put it past a Mountain Man to be a snake.”

Clarke pauses. “Bellamy said that the president was in quarantine. So, there was a coup. It would explain why things went downhill so fast.”

“That doesn’t surprise me that they would pull a coup to kill a entire group of people,” I answer. I wouldn’t put it past them.

“What if they find out that he’s missing?” Nigel asks. “The guy that father killed.”

“He might think that our people killed him on the way out,” I tell my brother. “They think we’re scum and it wouldn’t surprise us if they see us as thoughtless savages.”

I don’t know how much time passed as we trekked through the dark maze. Probably three hours and up ahead, we hear a screeching siren blare three times before it stops.

All of us come to a halt and the blood drains from Clarke’s face. “The Grounder prisoners are free. That means…no!”

She runs ahead.

“Clarke, wait!” Lexa yells as she and Wells run after her. The rest of us run after them.

“Clarke, you don’t know what could be waiting there!” Wells shouts.

My sword bounces in my sheath and my arrows shake in my quiver as we run, my heart pounding loudly in my chest. We turn the curve and stop to see Clarke and Octavia look into a white bin with grim expressions.

Wells jogs forward and Lexa, Lincoln, and I shortly follow him. Wells looks into the bin but recoils immediately like the bin is burning his skin. I decide to see what is disturbing him and look down to see a bloodied and mangled Fox laying in a bin. The sight of blood running on her body curdles my intestines and I try to hold back vomit.

“They are already killing them,” Wells says breathlessly. “We need to hurry and do this right now.”

“But how do we get there?” Corrine presses, raising her dark eyebrow. “We don’t know where they are.”

“Bellamy is supposed to be here,” Lincoln points out. “He should figure out that we’re coming.”

“They could already have gotten him too and they might be drilling into him right now,” Ryder theorizes.

_Bang!_

Lexa puts her hand on her sword handle and Clarke pulls out her gun.

 _Bang!_ The door flies open and out comes Bellamy.

“Bellamy!” Octavia cries in elation as she barrels into his arms. He holds her tightly as I see Jasper and Monty file in with someone in a hazmat suit. She separates from Bellamy before going to Monty and Jasper, the latter casting me a wary look.

The last time he saw me, I literally took him hostage and exchanged him for Bellamy before the attack that was ended by the Ring of Fire. Behind me, I hear grunts and see Raven being supported by Wick and Anya before turning back to see the Mountain Dweller casting a wary look at us.

“Don’t worry, they are with us,” Bellamy assures the person before turning to Wells, Clarke, and Lexa; his eyebrow furrowing in confusion as he looks over at me and my fellow Trikru. “So, this is your _army_?” he asks. “It’s not much.”

“Something came up, and we’re unable to execute the original plan,” Lexa answers. “We have to improvise.”

Bellamy looks over their shoulders and his eyes widen. “Raven!” he shouts before running over to where Raven is sitting. I move a little closer to hear the conversation. Apparently, Raven and Wick succeeded in blowing up the turbines and afterwards, the Mountain Men moved in on them but Anya and Charlotte killed them before they could get captured. Anya had someone take Charlotte home. She probably doesn’t want to lose her like she did Tris.

I hear a beeping noise, and I turn back. Not to mention it attracts Bellamy, Anya, and Raven.

Jasper furrows his eyebrow incredulously.

“Thirty minutes,” Jasper whispers looking at the back of the suit before looking at the Mountain Dweller. “We just changed it. That can’t be right. Shh…Um. This is her last tank.”

The only person this could be is Maya. The girl who saved Bellamy’s life.

“Hey, we’ll find you another one,” Clarke assures her. I could see that Anya’s face and hair are covered in blood.

“All the supplemental oxygen is on level five,” Maya stresses.

“Then we have to get you to level five,” Jasper tells her.

“Five isn’t safe for any of us,” says Maya.

“We’ll take the trash chute again,” assures Jasper. “It will work.”

“To get in, maybe,” Bellamy points out. “Maya is right. Every soldier in this Mountain is there. We’ll never make it out.”

“It’s not impossible if we split up,” Wells points out.

“Okay, what do you plan to do?” Octavia asks.

“Talk to Dante,” Bellamy says before Lexa can speak. “According to Maya he’s in quarantine.”

“What makes you think he might help?” Lincoln asks skeptically.

“Because he helped give me information once,” Bellamy answered. “He could do it again.”

Lexa thinks it over before nodding. “If you say so.”

Her eyes give away the fact that she’s skeptical. That she’s unsure if it will be worth it.

“Okay, then you guys go for Dante,” Octavia says. “We will help Maya.”

She follows them and pulls out her sword.

“Go with them, Costia,” Anya tells me, “to make sure she does nothing stupid.”

I wouldn’t put it pass her to do an impulsive, idiotic move since she gets the wrong idea about Trikru. That Trikru wannabe will mess everything up.

 

* * *

 

With the rest of us going up to the quarantine ward, Jasper, Octavia, Maya, and I crawl through the trash chute. I have to make sure that Octavia doesn’t hit me in the nose with the bottom of her foot and not to mention the sound of Maya gasping for breath makes it more exhausting.

As for the smell, I smell horse manure on an almost daily basis so I’m not complaining.

I see a rusted out _5_ next to the trash chute door and Jasper pushes it open. “Come on. We have to hurry,” says Jasper as Octavia and I file out of the door after Maya. “She’s out of air.”

“First you need to close the door,” Maya gasps and Jasper quickly slams the door shut after me before pulling off Maya’s mask. I thought I hear faint sheet music playing somewhere.

“Time to spare,” Maya says, looking at Jasper. Her jet black hair mussed by the hazmat suit.

“She’s safe,” says Octavia. “Can we go now?”

“I’ll be okay,” Maya says as Octavia begins to pace.

“Look, I’m not leaving you,” Jasper tells her.

From the sound of it, they got attached.

“Jasper,” Octavia groans.

“She’s alive, but she’s not safe,” Jasper says.

“Cage knows I helped you guys,” Maya replies. “He’s on Level Five.”

“So what do we do?” I ask.

Jasper frowns. “We kill Cage.”

From the sound of it, this Cage guy is the one who is killing the Sky People and if Jasper wants to kill him, he must be the Mountain Men’s assumed leader. Which begs the question: What the hell is Jasper thinking?

Maya slowly nods as Octavia says, “I’m in.”

 

* * *

 

We wait as Maya looks for someone that could help with Jasper’s stupid plan. On the wall is a round disk with numbers and moving dial. A clock. We go by the position of the moon and sun to tell what time of day it was though I read how clocks worked. The little hand told the hour and the big hand told the minute. Judging by the position of the hands, it is currently three in the morning.

Jasper paces and agonizes about Maya taking so long. To which Octavia says, “A warrior doesn’t worry about what he can’t control.”

I scoff just as Maya enters with a man wearing the same uniform that Bellamy was wearing.

“Thank God,” says Jasper as they hug. “Anyone see you?”

Her companion locks eyes on me and Octavia before pulling out his gun and points it at us. I unsheathe my sword and Octavia does the same.

Jasper blocks the gun while Maya lowers her friend’s hand. “Lee, put down the gun.”

He doesn’t tear his gaze and replies, “You didn’t say there were Outsiders with you.”

“One of them isn’t a Outsider,” Jasper says.

“Yes she is,” Octavia says.

No, she isn’t Trikru and will never be Trikru. She thinks she is but she’s not.

“They are with us,” says Maya. She turns to Jasper, “Cage is in the dorms. They bought another group from the Ark, more marrow. They’re not even trying to fix the dam.”

A terrible feeling sinks into my stomach. When Lexa sent Skaikru back to get reinforcements, they didn’t get…

If they are not trying to fix the dam, then that means they got enough to cure people and that’s not good for both groups. Trikru can’t survive if the Sky People die and the Mountain Men get cured.

“How many soldiers with Cage?” Jasper asks.

“Six,” answers Lee. “Why?”

Jasper takes off his rifle and answers, “Just get me close. They’ll be happy they found another eight doses. I need a –”

Octavia offers him a knife. “Aim for the throat” advises Octavia. “Slash. Don’t stab. Make it deep.”

I shake my head and scoff as the guard puts shackles on Jasper. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Lee says.

“Me, too,” Jasper says.

Jasper doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s going to get himself killed.

Lee leaves the room as Maya puts her hand on Jasper’s chest before kissing him. So, they have gotten romantically involved. He probably knew her for just three weeks but a lot can happen then.

Jasper says something to Maya before giving me a suspicious look like he doesn’t want me to do anything before he leaves the room. if anything happens to her, it won’t be my doing. It will be Cage’s fault for not cooperating.

 

* * *

 

“Long way from the Ark, huh?” Maya says as she looks out the window of the door.

“Not my Ark,” answers Octavia. “I didn’t have a view, either.”

“Still, I wish I can see it,” muses Maya.

Octavia looks at Maya and says, “We have a airlock. We used it to hold Emerson. All we to do is get you there and –”

“What kind of existence is that, Octavia?” I demand. “It’s not healthy psychologically for humans to be confined in a small space.”

“It’s better than death,” Octavia chides.

The door bursts open and I see a girl press her back to the cement wall as a boy kisses her. Really? The sight sickens me. Two teenagers making out while a group of people gets tortured to death.

Eventually, they turn their heads and their eyes widen like saucers at the sight of Octavia and I.

“Outsiders!” yells the boy. “Help!”

Octavia lunges forward, tearing herself from mine and Maya’s grip.

“Octavia, don’t!” Maya protests as we run after her. Up ahead of us are Octavia’s targets and two Mountain Men come around the corner.

“Outsiders! Behind us!” yells the boy before he and his girlfriend turn out of sight. Octavia throws her sword and it sticks in the chest of one guard while I shoot an arrow into his companion’s eye.

Octavia pulls her sword out as we hear more shouting. My heart pounds as three more appear at the other end of the hall. “Maya Vie, stop!” one of them shouts.

“Run, now!” she shouts and Octavia and I follow her down another corridor and she opens a door labeled _mess hall_ for us. Stepping inside, it’s a lavish room that only exists in picture. Everyone in the room stops what they are doing as they see us. Kids scatter and adults shout in fear.

When we head to the exit, two Mountain guards appear. Prompting us to turn. Only to see two more with their guns pointing at us.

“Hands up!” one of them orders. Reluctantly, I do. I could feel my entire body shaking. They close in on us and two grab my arms before forcing me on my knees. The others doing the same to Maya and Octavia.

This is it. We’re trapped and no one knows we’re here. That’s the scary part.

I hear metal jiggling from behind me when I smell a faint stench of burning flesh. A siren goes off and around us people begin to blister red, the stench strengthening as people slowly collapse in their chairs and on the floor. People cry and groan in pain. Our assailants have lost their strength and have fallen onto heaps on the floor. Maya herself is blistering red. Lying in a heap on the floor.

They did it then. They were forced to let the radiation in.

The doors open and Jasper comes running in. Stepping over convulsing bodies as he approaches us.

“Jasper,” she says weakly, reaching out her hand.

“I’m here,” he says tearfully. His eyes brimming with tears as he cradles her. “She was innocent.”

“None of us is innocent,” she rasps before gasping. Her neck flops in his arms and the life leaves her eyes.

“No, no,” he sobs.

Octavia and I sit with him as we’re surrounded by corpses of a dead civilization. I never knew her and I feel nothing for her death, just to redeem myself to Jasper I shut her eyes with my fingers.

            I could only imagine what Wells must have been feeling.

            When I meet him later, the horror was visible on his face. Looking at his eyes, it was like he had seen a dozen bloody battles. Like he aged another ten years.

            “We had to,” he said listlessly as we were leaving the Mountain with the Sky People. “Clarke, Lexa, and I tried to convince Cage but he wouldn’t budge. I mean, if he listened to us, Clarke, Bellamy, Lexa, and I wouldn’t have pulled the lever and…”

            “Wells, I don’t think he wanted to listen,” I point out. “If the four of you didn’t pull the lever, all of us would have died.”

            “Kill or be killed, right?” he asks. “I knew there was going to be difficult choices but not in this extent.”

            If we know one thing, life on post-nuclear Earth is harsh and cruel. It wears down on you and there are times where sacrifices must be made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have heard people say that the Mount Weather genocide would have been avoided if Lexa didn’t abandon them at Mount Weather. Since Dante gave his son the idea of the deal while they were gathered at the door, I think otherwise. If Lexa hadn’t abandoned them at the Mountain, back up plan or not, she would have had most of her warriors retreat while before she and a select few go into the Mountain with Clarke. As she said, “the duty to protect my people comes first.” Clarke and Kane couldn’t reason with Cage, and if Lexa tried, she would get the same results. If Wells was alive, he would have tried to reason with Cage, but he wouldn’t have been able to either. If either one or both scenarios played out, the Mountain would have still met it’s gruesome fate.
> 
> As for Emerson dying this time around, his story arc should have ended in 2x16. And that’s going to have a effect on my version of s3’s events. That means that Mount Weather doesn’t get destroyed.


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some things here that tie-in with Nuclear Earth, its sequel. This will be Season 3-esque as well.

            The sun came out when we returned the Sky People to their settlement and proceeded to melt the snow throughout the day. When the sun rose this morning, _Trigeda_ was greeted with frost on the grass and a crystalline blue sky.

            The day after they arrived back to their settlement, Abby was back on her feet tending to the Reapers. Despite the pleas from Kane, Callie, and Jackson – Abby’s assistant – that she should be resting and that it wasn’t good for her health to resume work right away after being drilled into.

            “I have to do this,” Abby argues as she was working on Asher – Indra’s brother. “If I don’t cure them right now, they will die. Clar – We promised them that we would bring them back like we did Lincoln.”

            I noticed how Abby winced in pain after she almost said Clarke’s name before switching the term. Yesterday morning when the Sky People returned to their settlement, Clarke left as soon as they got back from Mount Weather.

            “Just seeing their faces every day, is just going to remind me what I did with Lexa to bring them here,” were her words according to Wells. Even with Wells reminded her that all four of them had responsibility of what happened and with Bellamy telling her that she didn’t have to carry it alone.

            Last night was spent consoling Wells, as it seemed that losing both his father and then Clarke seemed to take an emotional toll on him.

            “First my father leaves and now Clarke,” he wept as Bellamy, Raven, and I sat around him. “It’s like since I came down here, everything I touch disappears.”

            “Wells, you have us,” Raven assured him. “We are still here.”

            “We might not be related by blood but after what we have been through, it has made all of us closer to each other,” Bellamy pointed out. “That makes us family.”

            “As I and Bellamy said, family is not bound by blood,” I assure him. “We’ll be your family, all of us.”

            Today, Wells and I are watching from the infirmary doorway as Abby tends to the Reapers. All of them being given something to make the detox less painful.

            “Lincoln came back with his mind intact,” Wells points out. “I don’t know if the same could be said for the rest, since they had it in their system for decades.”

            There was no way to doubt that. Lincoln was a newly created Reaper by the time he was brought back. Just recently, I heard that when he was recovering, Abby discovered some high amounts of drug components in his system. And early this morning she ran blood tests on the Reapers and found out that the levels were disturbingly higher then what she seen in Lincoln. She plans on running brain scans later to review the damage.

            Lincoln joins us at the doorway. “I know what those men went through as they went under the Reaper transformation,” he says. “Turning back is just as worse.”

            “What did the Mountain do to you?” Wells asks after a moment of hesitation.

            Lincoln pauses before he begins. “They locked me in a room and strapped me to a gurney, and every couple of hours, Cage Wallace would enter my cell.” He slightly shivers. “The pain after he injected me with it the first time. It was like I was on fire. He said the first dose was the worse.” A slight smirk appeared on his face. “I have no doubt that he found out for himself.”

            It’s not hard to guess that he hinted that he killed him and that Cage had the drug on him. Right after they irradiated the Mountain, I heard that Lincoln disappeared moments after Cage disappeared. Lincoln came back minutes later looking grim yet somewhat pleased with himself. Yet, I don’t ask since he’s telling us his experience.

            “They exposed electricity to my wrists while he emitted a high pitch tone, and then after I associated pain with the noise and was addicted to the red drug, they would pit me against a second person they were transforming to a Reaper for a dose of the drug,” he continued. “And it was a fight to the death.”

            My stomach contents curdle at his account and Wells’ eyes are the size of saucers. “Hearing that and hearing what they did to get radiation treatment, our societies only pale in comparison to what they carried out,” Wells points out.

            “The Mountain is a dark point in our past that all of us will not forget, but what matters is that no one will go through that pain anymore,” he says.

            I think of that cold winter day when my mother was taken nine years ago. Her last words to me, her passing me her necklace, and everything else before she was ripped away. I remember her reading to me and kissing my forehead goodnight. Her chestnut hair kept in their neat braids. If the Mountain hadn’t cast it’s shadow for a century and a half, she still would be here.

            “And no one will lose their mother’s on a winter’s day again,” I say.

 

* * *

 

            A week has passed since the Mountain’s shadow disappeared from the woods of Trigeda. Since their time to recuperate has expired, the Sky People have joined us in the harvest expedition. Only a few have paid attention to their Earth Skills lessons back when the Ark was up in space. Because of that, most of them sort the food while learning from their peers about archery.

            Especially since they are forbidden to use firearms while on harvesting expeditions. Courtesy of the TonDC massacre that occurred last month.

            Due to Raven’s lame leg, she’s forbidden from participating in harvest. Anya said that too much use of it would wear her down and put more damage on her leg. Raven has no objections. From what found out, she along with the mechanics and engineers are working on a way fix their heating system using parts from the heating system from Mount Weather.

            Speaking of which, I heard that both our clans made an agreement on Mount Weather. The Sky People are allowed to gut it out and strip it of everything, but no one is allowed to take residence. Also, Anya declined the offer to get a portion of Mount Weather’s spoils. Saying that we have enough while the Sky People have so little.

            “You guys also had a part in what happened, so it’s not just our spoils,” Wells says as I and Nigel hand two Skaikru the contents of the wagon. “I still believe that your clan should receive a share of what is in that Mountain.”

            “Wells, if you give us a share, we will only reject it,” I answer as I pick up the canister of cocoa beans with my aching arms. “If we get it, it will only result it in a excess of supplies. You barely have enough as it is.”

            He looks at the large canister. “Is that nuts?”

            I wipe my nose with my sleeve to get the snot out of my nose. “Cocoa beans. They grow near the Blue Cliff-Woods Clan border.”

            “Cocoa beans are usually found in the tropics,” he says with a frown.

            “Radiation changes everything,” I answer before sneezing.

            “ _Are you okay?_ ” he asks me. “You look like you’re catching a cold.”

            Wells has been studying Trigedasleng orally from either Lincoln or I, and he has been reading the book I lent him. He’s been learning phrases before he could start complicated sentences.

            “I just have allergies,” I answer, even though I usually get the cold this time of year. I hate being sick because that means I can’t do anything worthwhile (except for reading). “Nothing to worry about.”

            That doesn’t seem to convince him. “That looks more like cold then simple allergies,” he answers. “Come inside and Mrs. Griffin could check you out.”

            I know that it would be difficult to say no to Wells, so I comply and follow him to the complex. I just know what this checkup would turn into.

 

* * *

 

            My hands are clenched to the side of the examination table as Abby places her hands on my cheeks and forehead. I clench my teeth hard as she slides her hand down my back. She frowns as her hand runs over my kill marks. She pulls down the sleeve of my grey sweater to see them.

            “Can you explain those welts for me?” she asks. “How and when you got them?”

            My tooth sinks into my bottom lip. There is no way I’m going to let her know.

            “Those welts are kill marks,” Lincoln explains from across the room as he gives a recovering Reaper ginger to help with the detox. “Each one represents a single kill in combat. Warriors have them on their backs. The older they are, the more kill marks they have. Sometimes the number of kill marks exceeds their age.”

            That’s a understatement as father has fifty on him and he’s going to reach his fortieth year of life when summer begins.

            “Considering what I have learned about the locals in this territory, I shouldn’t be surprised,” she says with pursed lips.

            “Save the speech for later,” I gripe. “Continue what you are doing and confirm whether I have a cold or not.”

            Abby picks up a tool and instructs, “Open your mouth so I can look into your throat.”

            I open my mouth and light comes from the tip of the instrument. As she shines the light in my mouth, I resist the temptation to clamp my teeth on her fingers.

            “There is evidence of irritation in your throat and you were warm when I felt you,” she says when she sets down the odd instrument. “Do you ache anywhere?”

            “Right now it’s in my arms,” I answer.

            “Does everything taste bland to you?” she asks.

            Coming to think of it, my breakfast of ham, mashed potatoes, scrambled eggs, and biscuit was rather tasteless this morning. “Breakfast was rather bland this morning,” I answer.

            She puts her knuckles her lips in thought before withdrawing them. “I am going to prescribe you some ibuprofen,” she says. “See how that works.”

            “I’m not taking some manmade chemical that is going to make me even worse,” I spit out. “I have elderberries and nettle leaves that I can use, thank you very much.”

            “I won’t give it to you if it was going to hurt you,” Abby insists, taking a small bottle for a nearby cabinet. “Here. Just take two before you go to bed.”

            I knock the bottle from her hand and watch as it hits the floor. The contents rattling inside. “I’m not taking twenty-first century medicine,” I spit out. “I prefer to use what I have back at my village.”

            I get off the examining table and walk towards the door of the medical ward. Wiping my nose with my sleeve.

            “Costia,” Wells calls out and I see him walking towards me, holding the small plastic container in his hands.

            “Don’t tell me that you want me to take it too,” I moan. “I can do with the sleeping herb and the nettle leaves back home. I don’t want anything that’s manmade.”

            “ _Trust me_ ,” he says. “This might not be natural but it will be just as effective as what you have. This will help your symptoms. I wouldn’t give it to you if it would harm you.”

            He places the bottle on my gloved palm and clasps my fingers around it.

 

* * *

 

            Early December was greeted by our first blizzard of the year, holding people up in their dwellings. The next few days were spent shoveling people out of their homes and clearing pathways.

            Harvest has reached its tail end, with most of the animals having gone into hibernation and the crops died. Though deer and squirrel hunting is a common practice during the winter. They are one of the few animals that do not hibernate in the winter.

            I have caught a two-headed buck yesterday and today I plan on making the trip to Norbridge Trading Post/Farm to trade its hide in for chicken eggs. Only Raven offered to take me in one of the rovers that she took from Mount Weather.

            I look out at the frozen, winter landscape as the rover rides over bumpy, snowy terrain. Bellamy is sitting in the front passenger seat beside Raven as I sit in the back with Wells and Octavia. The latter’s presence making me uncomfortable.

            Indra means well but she deserves to train someone who has a better understanding of our culture then this basic bitch.

            “So, what has happened in Arkadia aside from the Jasper situation?” I ask. “I haven’t been able to visit due to the blizzard.”

            After Mount Weather, Jasper has gone a down a downward spiral. The excitable and happy go-lucky boy I once knew has become depressed and moody. They put him on suicide watch for two weeks and they had to lock sharp objects away from him. Hence, Chancellor Abby has forbidden him from venturing into our village due to that reason.

            The times that I have seen him, he was nearly intoxicated or buzzed from alcohol. And he always has a object in his hands that are connected to a pair of ear buds.

            “This is Maya’s mp3 player,” he explained to me one day when I stopped at Arkadia to help Skaikru take their harvest finds back to their base. “Whenever I hear the music play, I like to pretend that she’s here again.”

            He would only talk to me, Raven (which is strange because she was in Mount Weather’s control room when Wells, Lexa, Bellamy, and Clarke pulled the lever to irradiate Level Five), Octavia, and most of the forty-seven he was imprisoned with without being hostile. He is uncooperative with Wells, Bellamy, and Monty, and Wells has told me that Jasper has said scathing remarks regarding Lexa and Clarke about their part in the genocide. Though he’s more careful to say nothing about the former when my fellow Trikru came in rounds to help with the settlement.

            Back in the present, Wells clears his throat. “Nothing too eventful, but a day before the blizzard, the Commander showed up at Arkadia,” he answers.

            “Here we go,” Bellamy says, with no trace of annoyance. Like he’s been teasing him about something.

            I heard something about Lexa visiting Arkadia, though the details were not explicit. “What did she want?” I ask him.

            “She said that since we’re not a part of the Coalition, it’s making us vulnerable to attack from opposing clans,” Wells answers. “Considering the current circumstances, she thinks that it would safer if we joined the Coalition and became the Thirteenth Clan.”

            Those current circumstances would be the problems with Ice Nation. Ever since the fall of Mount Weather, it’s like they decided to grow colder and more hostile. Checkpoints are still in place because there have been reports of Azgeda warriors crossing into Trigeda territory. And just recently, two Skaikru have been attacked by Azgeda when hunting along the Trigeda-Azgeda border.

            And as for Lexa inviting _Skaikru_ to her table, there might be some problems from other clans as Anya has seen the _Azgeda_ ambassador speaking with the ambassadors from the other clans.

            “Who did she talk to besides you?” I ask.

            “To Mrs. Griffin and Vice Chancellor Kane,” Wells answers. “She was not sure about it but Kane held no objections.” He sighs. “Then she asked if I could become ambassador.”

            I feel my eyes widen. It shouldn’t surprise me that Lexa would pick Wells to be ambassador to his people. He holds no negative bias to either side, which is needed to be ambassador.

            “Did you accept?” I ask, knowing full well what that answer will be.

            “You know I would want to represent my people,” Wells answers. “And these three have been teasing me about it ever since.”

            “May I take that, ambassador?” Octavia asks, with a smile.

            “Mind if I give you a hand with that, ambassador?” Bellamy asks with a faint chuckle. “I doubt you’ll want a sprained arm by the time of the Induction Ceremony.”

            “Careful where you step, ambassador,” Raven teases with a smile. “The Commander doesn’t want any of her new ambassadors to limp before her.”

            The trio chuckles and Wells rolls his eyes. “That’s enough guys,” he says, as they chuckle some more. “So, what is going on in your deck of the woods?” he asks me. “No pun intended.”

            “I sure you know that Skaikru isn’t allowed to leave Woods Clan territory unless a member of Trikru is with them,” I answer.

            Wells frowns. “Mrs. Griffin made that announcement two days ago during lunch,” He answers. “Something having to do with Mel and Neville getting attacked by Azgeda soldiers when they were hunting?”

            “If Ice Nation is just the problem, why are we forbidden to enter any clans’ territory alone?” Bellamy questions.

            “Anya said that some of the ambassadors were getting chummy with the Ice Nation ambassador,” Raven replies. “That entering those clans would be a risk as well. She said that the Ice Nation ambassador has a hard time persuading the ambassador from the Boat Clan.”

            “Luna is not the one who would want to involve her clan in any sort of conflict,” I answer, “and the clan is the same way.” I look at the collection of trees surrounding are destination and say, “Stop. We’re here.”

            The rover comes to a complete stop and we leave it’s warmth for the frigidity air outside.

            “Thirty minutes,” Bellamy states as he looks at his timer while Wells and I take the deer hide out. He looks at me and asks, “How long does it usually take to get to this destination?”

            “Depends where you’re at,” I answer. “It takes six hours from my village by walking.”

            “In any case, the rovers make travel times shorter,” Raven indicates as she limps out of the rover.

            We trudge through the snow and I could see the smoke billowing from the exhaust pipe of the cabin.

            “Well, this is rather quaint,” Bellamy mused as he looked around his surroundings. he turns to Octavia, “Will you stay and guard the rover, O?”

            “Why do I have to be the one to guard the rover?” she demands.

            “Would you rather walk back?” Bellamy asks her.

            She folds her arms and huffs, “Fine.”

            When we approach the door, we hear two pairs of bickering voices. Though that doesn’t stop me from opening the door.

            Old Jack looks at us from his desk before casting his glance at the pair of men that are apparently arguing over the rights of an intricately carved, wooden bow. “ _I have got four more patrons_ ,” he agonizes to the fighting men. “ _If you two can’t reach a resolution, leave_.”

            The pair mutters under their breath as they walk past us. “Musty,” Raven comments as she looks around the room. “Looks like a blast from the past for sure.”

            “ _Sorry about that_ ,” Jack apologizes as he cleans his desk. “ _Those two have been going at it for a hour_.”

            “ _I could tell why_ ,” Wells affirms, looking at the bow. “ _Anyone would want the attention that would come with it_.”

            And Wells has gone from uttering phrases to complicated sentences.

            “ _What have you bought in to trade?_ ” Jack asks as we approach his desk. Wells pays attention to the bow.

            I set down the hide as Raven and Bellamy take out trinkets from their pockets. Stuff that they might have salvaged from Mount Weather.

            “ _Five cartons of eggs and two sacks flour in exchange of all of this_ ,” I answer as our trades sit on his desk.

Raven watches as he examines the trinkets and the deer pelt in front of him.

            “ _If you insist_ ,” he answers. “ _Are you planning to make a cake or something?_ ”

            “Something like that,” I answer as Wells approaches the desk with the intricately carved bow.

            “Does he speak English?” Raven asks once he leaves the room.

            “Warriors and civilians alike speak both English and _Trigedasleng_ ,” I explain. “ _Trigedasleng_ was created to keep our conversations a secret from the Mountain, though we pretty much prefer to speak it instead of English.”

            “Old habits die hard,” Bellamy understands, as Old Jack determines what we came for.

            “Are you aware of the problems we have been having with Ice Nation?” Wells asks him as he places a transistor on his desk.

            He nods. “ _Everyone in the territory knows_ ,” he answers. “ _I never do my supply runs outside of Woods Clan territory but I keep myself armed in case those icy buggers decide to cross into here_.” He picks up the transistor and inquires, “ _And you are trading this for…_?”

            Wells holds up the intricately crafted bow as Raven looks at the wristbands that are sitting behind his desk.

            “ _If those two haven’t bickered, one of them would have made the right choice and bartered something for it_ ,” he states as he picks up the transistor.

            “I find it fitting that you’d get a fancy bow,” Bellamy teases.

            Wells rolls his eyes and says, “Shut up.”

 

* * *

 

            The Induction Ceremony takes place today, which is the day before the Days of Christmas Festival begins. Snow falls steadily on the city of Polis as vendors prepare their stalls for the festivities that begin tomorrow. Children chase each other, skidding on ice.

            I stand with Wells, Kane, Chancellor Abby, three Guardsmen, and two of the Polis guards as they look at the city before them. Wells and Kane’s expressions are full of awe while Abby is just looking on with curiosity.

            “Incredible,” Kane breathes in awe.

            Wells looks at the Commander’s Tower, it’s torch burning ever so faithfully.

            “Is that…?” he asks.

            “That’s the Commander’s Tower, yes,” I answer as we follow Kane through the aisle of vendors. “The torch always burns when the Commander serves his or her term. If a Commander dies or is voted out unanimously, the torch goes out until the end of the Conclave.”

            “What happened to the last Commander before Lexa?” Wells asks as a girl takes Abby’s hand and drags her to the meat stall. With Kane following her.

            “He was assassinated,” I answer as Wells looks at the sculpted statue of Bekka Pramheda standing before the entrance. “Apparently no one bothered to check his wine before he drank it.”

            “Sounds like something from a book,” Wells articulates. “Who is that statue of?”

            “That is Bekka Pramheda,” I answer. “The First Commander. She landed in a pod two years after the bombs fell. Her pod and journal is in the Temple of the Flame. We could visit it sometime.”

            Anya comes out of the double doors of the tower and waves her arm at us as she approaches. “Wells of the Sky People,” she greets as she shakes his hand. “You are early.”

            “Vice Chancellor Kane wanted to make a early morning head start,” Wells explains.

            “I admire his enthusiasm,” Anya laughs. “Your enthusiasm is admirable as well. Now, come inside and get yourselves warm.”

            She walks past us and shouts, “Kane,” as the two of walk towards the double doors of the Commander’s Tower. With Wells looking at Bekka’s statue before catching up with me.

            In the tower, we take the lift (powered by two people pushing a wheel) to the floor where he’ll be prepped for tonight’s ceremony. I chuckle what awaits him in the prep. He’s going to have ten people tending to him; scrubbing every each of his body before he gets fitted into his ceremonial garbs.

            I know for a fact that he’s not used to it.

            I stay out of the room when he’s being prepped, as that would be a distraction for him. instead, I look out the cityscape with Lexa from her bedroom.

            “What is running through your mind, Lexa?” I ask her.

            She doesn’t look at me. Just stares out the window. “I’m hoping that I’m right,” Lexa quivers. “That it will solve our problems with Ice Nation. That Titus is wrong about this.”

            “What did he say?” I ask. I want to call him the bald fool but that would be insulting to father, who unlike Titus, lost his hair from an early age. Alopecia it’s been coined before the bombs rained down on the world.

            “That it was a mistake to invite the Sky People to my table,” Lexa answers. “That it will make the problems worse. I want to prove him wrong but something tells me otherwise. Ambassador Ivan has been talking with the other ambassadors but Anya and the Boat Clan ambassador.”

            “That is a problem,” I acknowledge. “Surely, whatever that frigid hag comes up with, you’ll be able to display your power. She may be queen of Ice Nation but you are the Commander of all twelve clans. Soon to be thirteen.”

            Lexa nods and she curves her lips into a small smile. “I hope so. Can you do something for me, Costia?”

            “Anything for my Commander,” I answer.

            She touches my shoulder. “Keep him safe, please,” she requests. “Not the fact that he will be the ambassador of his clan but for your sake and his sake. I know how much he means to you.”

            Lexa would know of our relationship since she saw us kiss twice and predictably, she doesn’t hold it against me. She said herself that if I found someone else, she would support me. That it didn’t matter who I loved.

            I nod and she leans down to kiss me on the cheek.

           

* * *

 

            Mere minutes from the ceremony, I’m in the foyer adjusting Wells’ ceremonial robes that they donned on him. They don’t fit pretty badly on his frame.

            “It has been two months,” he says in a faraway voice. “Two months since I last saw them.”

            I know he’s talking about his father and Clarke. Clarke left with no indication of when and if she might return and his father left with the promise that he’ll return with more people. I know that the latter and former bother him equally. Though with Clarke, I know he’s afraid of what’s going to happen due to this whole Wanheda gambit concocted by Azgeda.

            “If someone has been gone that long, it’s a bad sign,” he agonizes. “What if something happened to father when he was in the Dead Zone? What if Clarke crossed into Azgeda? You say they kill newcomers indiscriminately.”

            “I am sure that they are okay,” I assure him. “Your father is probably on his way back and Clarke might have concealed herself. Also, don’t dwell on it too much for tonight.”

            He faintly smiles. “If only they were here to see how far we’ve gotten,” he murmurs. “I would have proven my father wrong and Clarke would have been proud.”

            “I present to you, Wells of the Sky People,” Lexa announces from inside her throne room.

            “Now is your cue.” I kiss him on the lips. “Good luck.”

            He smiles at me before facing the double doors, which open for him as he walks in, holding himself straight.

 

**_To be continued._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for those that have took the time to read this. And I will say that there is more to come.


End file.
